England's Private Moments
by Fall in Snow
Summary: "So what you're saying is that with this machine we can technically spy on any nation and see what they're doing without them knowing it?" I questioned staring at Japan. He nodded his head slowly.
1. England and the Pegasus

Hello! I'll write these as I get inspiration for them so they may be slower or faster depending on how much time I spend in Lala land. There is an oc that will appear simi-frequently but I'll try to keep some other nations in it. And don't worry Iggy isn't paired with the oc they've just known each other forever.

Thanks to Fyrearth for being my beta reader!

France P.O.V.

"So what you're saying is that with this machine we can technically spy on any nation and see what they're doing without them knowing it?" I questioned staring at Japan. He nodded his head slowly.

"Yes, we were attempting to create a time machine, but after many, many months of testing we were not able to go back in time but to see the present time."

"We should so totally try it out!" America shouted like an overzealous puppy.

"We should not!" Japan exclaimed in a very out of character manner for him. "I only brought the machine to inform the nations of the world that I had it and to assure you we were not using it to spy."

"Honhonhon. This is a perfect test opportunity for you Kiku." I spoke letting a smile grace my perfectly flawless lips. "We can see what mon cher Angleterre is doing." I winked over Japan's head at Gilbert known to many as Prussia.

"No we should not use the machine!" Japan stayed in his overly loud state. It was very amusing to see him so flustered.

"No, no I think it was this button, mi amigo." Spain spoke from beside Prussia. He reached out a hand as he spoke and pushed a button. The machine made a whirling of noises before the room around us blurred out of focus. In the instant it took for me to feel motion sickness the setting around us had changed. No longer were we standing in the office conference room, but at green and dreary surroundings.

We were in England and it was raining, "yet we feel no rain." I hadn't realized I had spoken aloud until Japan responded to me.

"That is because we are still physically in the conference room. We can't change anything in our visible surroundings since we are not actually here."

"Hey, dude! There's Iggy!" America shouted from somewhere beside us.

I looked to him and then where he was pointing.

There sitting on a crumbling stone wall was mon cher Angleterre. The rain dripped down his features making his untamable mop of blond almost a brunette and glued it to the sides of his face. Black slacks made themselves at home on his shapely legs but were neither jeans nor his normal bland dress pants. The button up shirt he had on was cream with a grey vest that was unbuttoned. Altogether it was an image of England not normally seen and I had never seen those pants on him before. They do not look like something he would have picked on his own.

He was soaked all the way through as though he had been here for a while. His back was towards us facing deep emerald woods.

I took a glance around. Behind us there were woods as well. The stone wall had long stripes of treeless high grass running parallel to it. It looked like one of America's roadways yet instead of a road it was a wall.

"I come see you and you take me to play in the rain." A cheery very female voice spoke up. A girl came into view through a dip in where the wall had crumbled away. She was blonde but with the rain it had turned a shade similar to Arthur's; she wore it in a simple pony tail her bangs sweeping across her forehead and tucked behind her ear giving her a tomboyish feel despite its length. She wore a smirk on her face but much like Arthur her most fetching features were her eyes.

To sound cliché they looked like the sea. At first glance they were a blue tinted with green, but the longer I looked the more I could see the grey of a stormy Atlantic. Yet the blue would over power again making me remember the crisp clear waters of the Caribbean. The green fought back making harbors dance behind my eyes. Besides me Alfred gasped in awe-even the American could appreciate the beauty of those eyes.

"Damn! Arthur's got himself a girl, and he's been holding out on us! Not awesome." Gilbert exclaimed from somewhere behind me. I did have to agree with him; mon petit lapin having a girlfriend and not mentioning her was rather strange. He was always trying to imitate me and those exquisite sea eyes would be worth bragging about. Maybe she was a recent thing, but the way she pulled herself onto the wall and interacted with Arthur spoke that they knew each other fairly well.

I wonder how fair our dear "gentleman" has been with her. This experience was becoming more beneficial to me by the moment. I had many new things too tease Arthur with now.

With the girl on the wall, I could get a better view of her than just her pretty face. She was taller than mon lapin by a couple of inches. It appeared she was wearing a similar material to Arthur's pants since the wet pants didn't seem to annoy her. They were dark in color and she wore a deep blue jacket that hugged her shapely form but didn't appear to be too thick of a material. Overall she was a nice catch for Arthur.

Which made me wonder why he was keeping her a secret; she was nothing to be ashamed of.

"I have yet to let you down, Amelia; I don't plan on starting anytime soon." Arthur's voice replied cheerfully to her. He had turned his head and was facing her now. The rest of him in the same position as when we arrived

"Not the way I see it mister." She pointed at him revealing a long slender digit to the rest of us. Her nails were cut short and painted a deep navy blue. An interesting choice of girl for mon lapin. "I'm the one who never let you down." She smirked at him and cocked a delicately shaped eyebrow with a "what now" face.

A pretty girl with some spunk she may just be what Arthur needs to liven up.

"You didn't even give me the decency of dying at sea."

What? What was this girl talking about? Arthur dying at sea and she wanted him to!

"That's one messed up girlfriend Arthur has there." Alfred mused beside me.

I nodded my agreement. No wonder Arthur doesn't talk about her; she's crazy! Of course there would have to be something wrong with her to go for someone with Arthur's personality. That is as long as he treats his dates like the rest of us.

"I'm the one at fault, am I?" Arthur retorted with a snort. "If I recall correctly, you were the one who faked your own death in order to get off of my ship." He smirked back at her with a "so there" look.

I feel like I've stumbled on to a bad daytime TV soap opera. One of those horribly addictive shows with bad acting and plots, yet for some reason you just keep watching.

"Oh get off it." She smirked back at him again, yet there was no malice in their banter. They sounded like old friends having a playful argument that they had had one too many times. "You know I was the best first mate you ever had and there was no way you were letting me stay at port and not go with you."

I thought Arthur had stopped sailing after his pirating days and once it really wasn't all convenient for travel.

"Not without a valid excuse." Arthur interrupted her. "I seen no reason you would want to leave and I couldn't risk Spain having a first mate like you."

Ever the bitter rivalry between those two it would be rather nice if they could just get along.

"Awww! England that's so sweet!" she grabbed a hold of him in a hug smashing his face into her breast.

Honhonhon so Arthur has been getting some.

"I think that's one of the nicest things you said to me!" she proceeded to rock back and forth squishing Arthur's face farther into her ample chest.

I do believe I would rather like to try out Angleterre's place.

"Did she just call him England and refer to me as Spain" Antonio spoke up from besides me. "Who is this girl that Inglaterra would risk so much?"

It was a taboo to tell humans other than our bosses of our existence. Wars had been fought over these types of things before.

"Maybe she's a nation." Alfred spoke up from beside me. "I mean have you listened to how her and Iggy talk? It's like she was there when he himself sailed ships across the Atlantic." I was slightly in shock from America's intelligent response. I often time forgot that his overly cheerful and carefree nature masks his observation skills and intelligence.

"Non, she is not a nation or we would sense it, but she is most peculiar no? Especially the way she handles Angleterre." I smiled as Alfred gave me a dumb look. Gilbert cackled like crazy still somewhere behind me and Antonio gave a laugh.

"Damn, I'd trade places with him right now." I could feel his grin that accompanied his laughter. Arthur had since detangled himself from the girl and was leaning away from her, a playful glare on his face. A playful glare, only Angleterre could pull that look off. But then when one spends most of their time with a particular look on their face they become the master of it.

"I though the idea was to have me die at sea, not suffocate me to death on land." He gave her a wiry look.

She was nicely endowed. I would have thought Arthur may have found it a most pleasurable way to go.

"Oh come on you know it would be an epic way to go! France would be jealous." She taunted back.

Does la fille know me?

Mon lapin gave her a dead panned look and she held his gaze with a haughty smirk. The edges of Arthur's mouth began to twitch upwards as he suppressed a laugh. She smiled widely at him showing off her pearly white teeth. Arthur let a full smile cross his face before laughter escaped out of him. He doubled over clenching his sides with the amount of laughter. It had been a long time since I had seen mon lapin laugh in a non-manic way. I felt my gaze soften at the ability to relax this girl was giving Arthur. Perhaps I wouldn't tease him about it.

"That," he choked out. "I would pay to see." I'm glad he takes such amusement in my pain. His laughter started to die down but the mirth was still there, "the frog being smothered to death by his latest catches bosom." The girl burst into laughter as well renewing Arthur's laughter. "Amelia you will be the death of me." He stated wiping tears from the corners of his eyes.

I am not that bad!

"If a former colony or your brothers don't beat me to it," she grinned at him cheekily. "I'll happily be your murderer as long as it's at sea." At least I can get a girl who isn't obsessed with my death.

"What's with this girl and her not awesome obsession with killing England at sea?" Gilbert spoke up finally making his way besides me.

"To be slain by Davy Jones herself," Arthur struck a stereotypical poet pose as well as he could while sitting on the wall. "What ex-pirate wouldn't dream of that?" He smirked at her.

She's Davy Jones! It must be some kind of role playing game they play. It just can't be true. I doubted Arthur would be into kinky games, yet he surprises me quite often.

"Most of them," The girl dead panned looking at Arthur all of her laughter gone, "Considering most of them think me to be a man and now, thanks to fucking America's movie, they think I have an octopus head…" she turned glaring off into the distance.

Did this girl really believe she was Davy Jones? She is as crazy as Arthur.

"Come now it's not all that bad." Arthur tried to console her. "It renewed interest in the legends and that's always a good thing for magical creatures."

I can't believe he believes this craziness.

She still didn't turn to face him. "Look at how they portray the English in their movies with that shitty overly exaggerated accent." She turned to him a hint of a grin on her face.

"The accent is pretty bad. And the pirate movies weren't all bad; I watched them all."

"Oh get off it! You just liked Orlando Bloom in them. It's the same reason you watch Lord of the Rings." He huffed turning away from her.

"Not true! I watch the pirate movies for Captain Jack Sparrow, because as horrible as it is, he reminds me of you when you had more freedom." Arthur made a motion to interject but she cut him off. "Oh come on you can't tell me some of the shit we pulled was logical-most of it was just bat shit insane."

He grinned at her at this. But then what is she? She talks like she was there and nothing other than nations should live so long.

"And I watch the Lord of the Rings because you're absolutely hilarious to watch those movies with. One minute you're impressed-don't give me that look-and the next you're going off on how horrible they are." Arthur looked away from her grumbling but with a smile on his face.

I didn't think Angleterre watched movies besides the ones Alfred forces him to watch with him.

"Shh," Arthur moved suddenly outstretching one of his hands towards Amelia. "Hand me one of the apples."

Armed with the red fruit Arthur slid of the wall and into the waist high grasses around the wall. He moved in a slow crouch towards the woods he had had his body facing. Halfway to the woods he slid his hand with the fruit in it out in front of him, but continued his slow movements making him look rather awkward.

Gilbert cackled besides me. "Look he's going to play with more of his imaginary friends!" He continued his laughter.

Arthur had by now made it to the edge of the woods the fruit still held out in the flat of his palm. Something white moved in the shadows of the trees. Slowly a horse head emerged from the woods sniffing at the offered apple. The horse slowly moved into view. It was a virgin white mare, yet this was not the most striking feature she possessed but the white wings that graced her flanks.

"Is that a Pegasus?" America gasped almost breathless besides me.

"It is beautiful." Japan whispered beside me. I had to still myself from jumping; I had forgot he was here.

"Who knew old crabby England had something so awesome in his borders?" Gilbert chipped in.

"Maybe he's telling the truth about the unicorns as well." Antonio chirped.

The Pegasus sniffed the offered apple before moving forward to sniff at Angleterre's hair. Seeming to accept Arthur as not a threat she turned back to the apple and ate it straight from his hand. The girl who Arthur had brought with him had sat up at attention staring in awe at the creature before her. Arthur put his hand that hadn't been holding the apple into the air and made a 'come hither' motion at her. She leaned forward before sliding off the wall and moving at a much slower pace than Arthur had towards the creature.

After sniffing Arthur's hand once again the Pegasus decided he didn't have any more food and moved back to sniffing his hair. Seemingly satisfied that Arthur was who it thought he was, the Pegasus began rubbing its head against Arthur's messing up his plastered down hair even more. Arthur's hands came up hugging the creature round its neck, nuzzling his check with it's.

"Hullo, Stella. How have you been?" he questioned the creature while continuing to pet it.

The Pegasus now known as Stella lifted her head from the nuzzling of Arthur, freezing at the sight of Amelia. Amelia had approached slowly and now stopped a few feet away hand outstretch with the apple and crouched down low. Too bad for the tall grass or it would have been a nice view of her backside; somehow Angleterre is always finding a way to foil my plans at amor.

"She's alright my sweet." Arthur cooed at the creature. "She's a very dear friend of mine." The creature snorted. "As are you and I thought my two girls should meet." The Pegasus almost seemed to nod before moving slowly, tentatively towards Amelia. Arthur leaned back on the balls of his feet watching the two of them start to interact.

Stella sniffed Amelia much like she had done Arthur, but instead of eating out of her hand, Stella picked the apple up and moved it to finish eating. The apple gone it appeared as if a tentative bridge had been made between the two and Stella began to sniff Amelia again.

I looked back over for mon petit lapin but he had disappeared.

Stella began rubbing her head against Amelia causing the girl to laugh.

"Does he take all the girls to meet you, Sweetheart?" Amelia questioned as she ran her hand down the creature's nose. "Or am I special?" Amelia looked up to where Arthur had been as if she expected a response. "Arthur?" the Pegasus looked up to where the nation had been. Stella moved exposing the little entrance Arthur had crouched in when he had beckoned her out. Arthur's laughter rang out through the air.

Sitting in the mud, leaning back, braced on his hands was Arthur. This was twice I had heard Arthur laugh in a manner I hadn't heard since he was a child. Twice in one day and all without the presence of another nation.

Why couldn't any of us get that laugh out of Arthur?

Jumping around him in the mud was two smaller Pegasi. One with a tint of blue to it the other pink, how very cliché of the colors. I bet they're a boy and girl.

"I didn't know you had little ones, Stella." Arthur laughed rubbing both sides of the blue ones head as the pink one nuzzled into his side. They jumped away and around him acting like big winged puppies. "Mind if I name them my dear?" The Pegasus shook her head at him. So it did understand what he was saying and it was responding.

This is becoming weirder by the second. I'll have to confirm with Gilbert and Antonio that this actually happened.

"Hmmm… you shall be Ion," Arthur spoke tapping the blue one on the nose with his fingers. "If you may little dear one… hmmm you're not an Iona…no, no, no, no, that won't do for a set of twins as wonderful as you. Always questioning who was named after whom. How about Ilyana?"

The pink one jumped away from him and rubbing her cheek against his before making her escape.

"Ion and Ilyana, Ilyana and Ion it goes either way rather nicely." He stood from the ground attempting to wipe the mud from his pants. "We best be on our way Amelia. I didn't know there was little ones and their father might have tolerated a stranger before, but with them I'm sure he will not now."

As the words left Arthur's lips the whirling returned. The motion sick vision that accompanied it before made itself known as we all found ourselves in the conference room.

"Aww I wanted to see more." Alfred whined.

"Si I was hoping to see a unicorn." Antonio joined in.

"Why are we back?" I questioned Kiku.

"It appears that the machines batteries have run too low for it to function." Kiku spoke up sounding relieved. "We must not speak of the incident to England or he will be very upset."

"Fine, fine," Gilbert gave a wave of his hand. "I wanna see what other awesome creatures England's been hiding from us. When will the machine be operational again?"

"No, no, no!" Kiku cried out.

"So what do we all think of this Amelia, Arthur has?" I questioned rather curious as to the others opinions.

"I don't generally believe in this stuff, but we've just seen a Pegasus. Maybe we can give them the benefit of the doubt." America spoke in a solemn voice. It seems the boy had put quite a lot of thought into it. There were similar courses from Antonio and Gilbert. I nodded before turning away.

This will be fun. I got to see a side of mon petit lapin I haven't seen in millennia and to see his cute maybe girlfriend. I can't wait to tease him about it.


	2. England Can Cook

_This slipped my mind last time, but I do not own Hetalia or Davy Jones or the band Train. Amelia is mine though._

_Thanks to my beta __Fyrearth! What I'd do without you I have no idea._

_And thanks to amerique for the review. As for your question… China's not a character that I can get into his head easily. I'll work on it though and maybe he'll make an appearance._

Gilbert's P.O.V.

The awesomeness that is me has been coming to these meeting for years. Mostly to mess with my little brother, West, but sometimes I come to see how my fellow not-quite-as-awesome as me nations were holding up. I felt that, with my nation gone, it was somehow my job to make sure none of the nations I had fought with and against lost theirs. I'm not being sentimental. That would be un-awesome. Yet seeing how the nations that had once ruled the world had changed made me feel…. It would be un-awesome if any of them fell. Then I would just be history, none of my awesomeness known by any of the younger nations.

Speaking of younger nations, I snorted looking at America; who would have thought such a schwachkopf could bring the cold and cruel sailor of the seven seas to his knees. Cold and cruel… not so much anymore; Arthur wasn't someone I worried about often. Come on, you mess with him and America's all over you. Yet he's the best example. He's mellowed a lot—shit that would have gotten you shot or strung up from a ceiling fan by your toes just gets an angry retort now a days. The only one he's physical with is France and they never hurt each other all that badly anymore.

I remember a time when his glare could give a man a heart attack outta fear. He still has a wicked glare, but nothing like his pirate days. Damn, now I sound old and sentimental, not awesome! Not awesome at all. I wasn't worried about my drink partner, not at all. Sure he couldn't hold his liquor, but once he started to cry, just give him some more rum and he turned into a riot! Sometimes laughable sometimes physically abusive… it really depended on the day, and if Francis was there, or if we were in France.

Japan walked into the room, and America bounded to his side like one of West's dogs. The kid was being rather un-awesome today. He had his days were he almost rivaled me in awesomeness, but today wasn't one of them.

"Did you bring it? Didja? Huh huh huh!" America bounced around Japan. Kiku's jaw clenched slightly before it smoothed away in a mask of no emotion. I wonder if I could wind Kiku up and watch him explode. It would almost be as funny as seeing West go off over coffee grinds in his coffee pot!

"Hai, Alfred-san I brought it. Although I must once again try and persuade you not to use it." Kiku sighed looking at America imploringly. America ignored him or didn't notice at all taking the bird cage shaped item out of Japan's hands.

"No way! That Pegasus was super cool! Iggy never shows any of us anything like that!" America laughed setting the machine on the table. The meeting room door opened.

"Hola! Francis won't be able to come today. His boss wants him for something." Antonio walked into the room sliding his cell phone into his pocket as he did so.

"Okay let get this awesome show on the road." I moved towards the machine.

"I will set the machine up Prussia-san." Japan stepped between me and the machine and, before I could tell him how un-awesome he was being, the world blurred and the whirling began.

England's living room came into view. The cute chick from before—Amelia—was sitting on Arthur's un-awesome flower print couch. She was a girl after my own heart. The girl was angled on the couch so her legs were flipped over the back resting on the green throw cover across the back. Her head was barely on the seat cushion with her blonde hair draped onto the floor. One arm was thrown over her stomach and the other over her eyes.

"Hahahah," America's voice filtered in. "her socks don't match!"

Arthur needs to take that boy to a strip club and give him the talk. Her socks are what he notices. She was wearing one of those American shirts… what are they called…. Baby tee's! Basically it was a tiny tee shirt that hugged her every curve and if she moved just slightly showed a little skin between the edge of her shirt and pants. The shirt was black with a Canadian flag resting perfectly on her breast. Studded black leather belt held up boot cut jeans covering her slim legs, and as America had pointed out one highlighter green sock covered one foot while the other was hidden behind black and white stripes. I could feel the aggravations the mismatched socks would cause West. I'd have to try it.

"Arthur!" she called out without moving. "Arthur, Artie, Iggy, England, Angleterre!" she called out not moving. While she had been calling, Arthur had stomped down the stairs. I have very high suspicions she had heard him coming down. My theory was further proved by the smirk on her face which she tried to hide with an arm. She's so awesome; not as awesome as me but pretty high up there.

"What!" he all but shouted at her and before she could continue, "and stop with speaking in the fucking frog's language! And you know I don't like those nicknames!" she moved during his tirade rolling over so she was on her knees in front of him her hands resting on the arm rest. On the back of her little shirt in block letters that matched the red of the flag were the words 'I know that you want to be Canadian.' I can say she was making it a tempting offer.

"Captain Kirkland," she began her butt wiggling in the air. Damn first chance I get I'm stealing her from him. Arthur's way too boring for her. She put on a pouting face but her awesome oceanic eyes held a smirk. "I'm hungry." She stated. "Feed me?" She gave him an attempt at a puppy dog face but was failing because of the smile threatening her lips.

Arthur rubbed his hands on his face. "I give up!" he threw his hands into the air adding more of his weight on one of his legs. That's totally a girl pose, "I'll make something." He turned showing off his un-tucked white button up shirt and washed out skinny black jeans. I haven't seen those pants since his punk days. Who knew grumpy Arthur still wore them. Next time we go drinking I'm making him wear those awesome pants.

"He's gonna kill her!" America gasped in horror. "We have to save her!"

"We are not actually here, so there is nothing we can do without stopping the machine." Kiku spoke up. I do believe I detected a hint of smugness in his voice, but I knew it was hopeless to see his face he would already have it back in an emotionless mask.

"Maybe after she tastes his cooking she will break up with him." Antonio spoke up. He was off to my left. He had his hands clasped behind his back and was swinging them slightly. Some days I don't know if he's acting innocent or actually is aware of what he's doing.

"And none of the shit you pull on France and the rest of the world." Amelia shouted from the couch. "I know you can cook, and you know I know it." She finished with her pointer finger up in the air, hand appearing over the back of the couch. She made a circle motion with her wrist as if to emphasis what she meant before letting it fall back over her face.

"Whatever." Arthur leaned back into the room around a corner. "Hope you don't want anything too specific. I still need to make it out to the market." He continued to watch her. Maybe he was going to offer her something to do. Isn't that good hosting skill or some bullshit like that?

"Nope, go for it!" the girl chirped. She fished around before grabbing the remote control and turning the TV on.

"I see you Joanna," filtered from the speakers.

"Sweeny Todd's on!" the girl squealed. "That guy's suck a creeper!" She moved so she was sitting on the couch, feet on the coffee table. Her eyes lit up in happiness… and maybe a little malice was in there too…

"Glad you're amused," Arthur dead panned at her before going back into the kitchen. He bent over looking into the fridge. There was a clink sound and he slid out holding a green bell pepper, carrots, and half of an onion. "Hmmm, I need to go shopping." He moved over to a cabinet above the counter besides the stove. There were different spices on the shelves.

He began moving some around looking at what he had in the cabinet. "Damn, what can I make…" he trailed off pulling some liquids out of the cabinet. "Hmmm, I've got Mirin and soy sauce… this is going to be a weird stir fry." He set the bottles beside the stove before going back to the fridge. He reappeared with some beef in his hands. "It's not the right cut but it'll have to do." He sighed rummaging in another cabinet pulling out a cutting board and a metal bowl. He pulled a butcher knife from a block on the counter.

At this point I was truly going to have to start fearing for this girl's life. How is she supposed to date the awesomeness that is me when she's in a coma from food poisoning? Davy Jones or not I'm positive Arthur's cooking is the most hazardous substance out there.

Arthur un-wrapped the meat and placed it on the cutting board. He started humming a little tune to himself as he picked up the butcher knife. He held the edge of the blade to the light, looking down both side. With a nod of his head I assumed he had deemed it acceptable. A manic grin spread across his face as he turned to the meat and I swear his eyes changed color! One moment they're green… like emerald green to be girly about it, and the next they're that eerie green you see in the crappy American movies when something radiates energy or is radioactive. Damn that was freaky!

He placed the knife, with a skilled hand, a few centimeters into the meat before cutting a slice down. He proceeded to cut that strip into similarly sized squares, and toss them into the bowl. I'm not all that surprised Arthur can handle a knife. Come on, he was a fricking pirate; he would have handled knives. He went on to finish his chunk of meat in the same fashion but his cheerful humming had gained lyrics.

"I've been high, I've been low." His light singing turned into a small dance number as he started swaying slightly with the rhythm of the song. "I've been yes, and I've been oh hell oh no!" He moved the knife away waving it for a moment while bobbing his head. "I've been rock'n roll, and disco." He went back to finishing the meat. "Won't you save me San Francisco?"

"Hey, hey, hey that's my city! Hahahah! Iggy's not going to live this one down." America crowed.

Arthur paused after finished the last line. "Damn, if Alfred heard me now I'd never hear the end of it." If only he knew we were watching him now, that's rather creepy. He snorted stabbing at the meat viciously for a second. "Amelia!" He shouted as he finished the meat.

"What?" Amelia called back. "We're killing people."

"Yes, yes, you've seen this movie several times before." Arthur dropped the board and knife into the sink turning on the hot water. He pulled out a measuring spoon. Measuring out first the Mirin and dropping it into the bowl then two spoonful's of soy sauce.

"And your point is…"Amelia trailed off still not moving from the couch or taking her eyes from the TV.

"You're not allowed to bring new music when you have recently been in the States." He went back to the sink, putting some soap on the sponge and cleaning the knife and board before bring them back to the counter.

"Awwww," Amelia whined. "Which one did I get stuck in your head?"

"The one about San Francisco saving me," Arthur replied pulling a frying pan out onto the stove. He poured a smidgeon of oil in the pan and turned it on. Maybe this girl will get the hint when she smells smoke. With a spin and another impressive display of his skills with a knife Arthur minced the onion and had in a professional cook movement slid the freshly minced onion into the sizzling oil. Armed with a wooden spoon he gave the onions a quick stir before quickly returning to the bell pepper. The pepper was quickly turned into little chunks and Arthur was back at the onions with his spoon.

"It's by Train." Amelia chirped appearing over the counter. "That smells really good." She said sniffing the air.

"It should, all I've done is sauté onions." He stirred them one more time, the onions starting to take on a transparent look. While looking at the onions he picked up the bowl of meat and sauces, and proceeded to pour them into the skillet. Arthur let it set for a few seconds cooking the side that came into contact with the pan. I took a step back from the situation. Well, mentally not physically. Arthur is infamous for the charcoal he serves as food, yet I'm not seeing where he goes wrong. Does he cook it too long?

"Were you going to do something with the carrots?"

"Carrots?" Arthur questioned going silent for a moment. "Shoot," he turned back to the carrots setting them on the board and cutting them into small disks. He spun back to the meat giving it another stir before adding another spoonful of mirin and two more of soy sauce directly to the pan.

"Good thing I'm here to save your ass, aye Captain?" Amelia gave him a shit eating grin. Arthur snorted at her but didn't grace her with a reply. Once all the sides of the meat were brown Arthur added the carrots letting them simmer some. A few more stirs and the bell peppers were added.

"There's some left over white rice in the fridge if you wouldn't mind warming it up." Arthur addressed Amelia scratching the edge of his nose with a finger.

"Something wrong?" Amelia asked popping the rice into the microwave. She leaned back against the edge of the counter top.

"I can't shake the feeling that someone's coming." Arthur said giving the mixture another stir. Amelia made a humming sound at him in acknowledgement. "But we wouldn't have stayed in London if I thought that was possible." He continued absent-mindedly stirring the concoction. "Alfred and Francis were in a meeting, and they're the only ones who truly drop in completely without warning."

Arthur pulled the mixture off the burner turning it off. The microwave beeped and Amelia now held a steaming bowl of warmed up rice. Arthur's head shot up his eyes going as wide as saucers. Thankfully, since he had put down the knife his eye color had gone back to normal.

"Shit! Move into the closet!" Arthur shouted. Pan in hand, he started corralling Amelia, who was holding the rice still, towards the closet in the living room.

"What!" Amelia tried to turn and look at him only to keep getting pushed.

"I'm not sure who it is but someone is coming!" he pulled open the door to the closet giving Amelia one last push. He shoved the skillet into her hands before shutting the door. In a flurry of movement he ran back to the kitchen and turned the stove onto broil. He dug into a cabinet pulling out a burnt cookie sheet.

No, there was no way he was doing what I think he might be doing. That would be just cruel.

Arthur made a grab for the cookie jar on the counter before dumping the contents on the cookie sheet. Black lumps and crumbs scattered across the sheet, Arthur's infamous scones in the flesh.

He shoved the cookie sheet into the oven, before once again getting into a cabinet. He pulled down a bag of flour before he started to festively throw it in the air. He tossed a few handfuls on to the stove and counter before pouring a good portion on the ground.

"Shit, shit, shit, shit" Arthur chanted as he ran towards a bathroom while undoing his belt. He disappeared into the bathroom only to reappear seconds later in his old man pants, sweater vest draped over his arm as he frantically did his tie. Arthur ran back to the living room. A burning smell had started to perforate the room. He pulled the sweater vest over his head and flopped in his chair as the front door flew open.

"Bonjour mon petit lapin!" Francis called coming through Arthur's front door. In true Arthur fashion, Arthur was quick on the draw. There wasn't any hint that he had just put on this show and hadn't been there all day being boring. I wonder if Francis remembered we were using the machine today.

"Who gave you permission to just let yourself into my house?" Arthur screamed at him. "Get out and go back to your own slimy country you blasted frog!"

"Oh, L'Angleterre mon amour, nothing could keep us apart." Francis swept his arms open wide and made a movement towards Arthur as if to hug him. He halted in his movement and took a sniff of the air. "Is something burning Angleterre?" He cocked his head slightly to the side.

"My scones!" Arthur cried out like he was worried, hands up in the air and everything. What a faker! He ran towards the kitchen with Francis hot on his heels. Arthur pulled open the door on his oven pulling out the cookie sheet and scones. Francis leaned over him turning the stove till it clicked without looking at it. Arthur set the tray on top of the stove and turned to face a corner of the kitchen, facing away from Francis, with his shoulders hunched.

"Mon lapin?" Francis moved his hand slightly to touch Arthur's shoulders.

"Don't touch me, frog." Arthur sniffed rather pathetically, half-heartedly moving his shoulders out of Francis' grasp.

"What were you trying to do, Arthur?" Francis question softly almost like he was afraid of hurting the little backstabber.

"I was making scones." Arthur moved towards the pan. "They're fine, right?" He turned to Francis, eyes imploringly huge and slightly teary. "You'll eat one, right Francis? You wouldn't lie to me." Arthur's bottom lip gave a quiver sealing the image. Francis took a look at the scones then back to Arthur.

"Mon lapin," he began.

"Please Francis." Arthur sniffled a little adding to the image. Francis made a pained sigh before looking into those emerald orbs again. Damn, Arthur had him eating out of his hand! That little conniving snake! Here I thought the British Empire had lost his touch and he was just hiding it!

Francis moved picking up one of the blackened bits before looking back at Arthur who had moved to giving him a hopeful puppy look. With another deep breath Francis took a bite of the thing Arthur had dumped on the cookie sheet. In a blur of motion Francis spat the bit into the sink before bolting out of Arthur's home, probably afraid of being yelled at or forced to eat more rock chunk.

"Hey look," Amelia's voice chirped, "dinner and a show." Arthur turned looking at her. She set a half-eaten pan of whatever Arthur had mixed together and half the rice on the counter. "Lunch was great." She smiled at him. "The show was rather impressive."

He smirked at the compliment.

The world began to blur and a whirling sound filled the room. We were all back in the conference room starring at the machine.

"Arthur can cook?" I said in shock only to realize everyone else had said a version of the same thing. We all looked at each other slightly horrified. We all nodded our heads in silent agreement to never speak of this moment again especially to poor Francis.

Feedback is epic in determining if you like what your reading.


	3. England and the Unanswered Question

**Sorry this took so long, I have a few more in the works, but no promises on how quickly they'll be out. (some of the charters aren't cooperating...)**

**I love all the reviews and the ideas everyone has given me Thank you all so much!**

**Thanks you Fyrearth for being my beta and putting up with me taking forever to read through your drafts... (check out her story Lady Liberty)**

Antonio's lightly tanned face was covered with an unusually sly smile as a click sounded through the silent hall way. Plush, maroon carpet silenced the sound of any footsteps we or anyone else made. This entire operation was about being sneaky, especially if we didn't want to get caught; the carpet was both a blessing and a curse. The plush maroon fibers were a double-edged sword so I was standing at the end of the hallway; we needed a look out.

Antonio crouched in front of the rather plain white door. It was the very same door which blocked the entry way to the meeting room we had agreed upon to have a little rendezvous with Japan and America in. Gilbert bounced at his side his eyes glistened with the color of fresh blood in his excitement.

Ah, but alas, Gilbert was also the reason I was alone at the end of the hallway. Gilbert had a way of manhandling people when he was excited. Of course this manhandling tended to be tapping things, more like smacking them with the back of his hand, repeatedly in the same spot. Purple bruises did not look good on me, ever. Though if I had to, I could make bruises look good as well. I am France after all. Besides, who better to distract someone than my beautiful self?

"Awesome! You've still got it!" Gilbert exclaimed with his signature laugh as he pushed Antonio out of the way and the door opened. Gilbert was a good friend but a little rough with people at times, much like my dear Angleterre.

Antonio's ass connected with the plush carpet, a cross look marring his normally happy features. With the door open I took one last look around the hallway and made my way to my friends.

"What made you think I had lost anything?" An image of an angrily ranting Antonio came to mind at the question. We had been in a port bar after he had come back from the Americas. If I recall, he was more than livid about losing his gold, authority, and undergarments to Arthur, but somehow I doubt that's what Gilbert had been referring to. Antonio cocked his head at Gilbert his happy smile starting to dampen towards the corners of his mouth. Sometimes I wonder if these two would survive without moi.

"Well you haven't exactly been striking fear into the hearts of men recently." Gilbert sneered back, as he not quite sashayed, but it was a victory walk of some sort, into the dark room. A completely confused look crossed over Antonio's face completely displacing his usual smile completely.

"Why would I be striking men's hearts?" Antonio fluffed his hair on the back of his head. Now would be a good time for my marvelous self to intervene.

"Excellent Antonio!" I clapped my perfectly manicured hands together distracting the two of them from a would-be brawl. "Now why don't we see what our favorite little Island nation is doing, hmmm?" I questioned, smirking at the two as they mirrored my look. I quietly clicked the door shut behind me, blocking out the light from the hallway. The machine loomed in front of us on the table casting a giant silhouette against the room. Gilbert flipped the lights on as Antonio bounced over to the machine. A few movements later and the room blurred only to clear into a familiar living room.

Arthur sat in his favorite gaudy arm chair. A worn book sat in his lap and a cup of steaming tea set to his right on the end table next to a tacky lamp. He paused absentmindedly reaching for the cup and taking a small delicate sip. Unlike the previous times we had looked in on him, he was dressed more formally; perhaps he was expecting company that was not Amelia. The neatly pressed black slacks hid his finely shaped legs from view, and did horrendous things to his shape. His tiny feet looked even smaller covered in thin black argyle socks, which did not match the black of his pants. A grey vest, which should never have been worn anywhere but under a jacket that wasn't ever going to be taken off, covered an off white button up shirt which had been buttoned to the top button. In total, the look did nothing for his figure and hid all of his pale skin from view.

"Why does America call you Britain?" A youth's voice spoke from behind Arthur coming from the kitchen. He turned to look at the speaker, as a familiar look of aggravation crossing his face which caused his eyebrows to scrunch together. Behind his horrible out of style, and was never in style, chair stood a twiggy red head. The twiggy teen wasn't facing Arthur as he asked his question but the stair well. I cocked my finely shaped eyebrow in confusion and allowed my eyes to trail up the stairs until they met the toes of a person. On the stairwell facing the teenage red head was… Arthur?

"Whoa! There're two Englands!" Gilbert exclaimed from over my shoulder. I looked between the awful chair and the stairwell at the two identical blondes.

"I believe that one of these two blondes is Pays de Galles." Both Antonio and Gilbert stared at me confused. "One of them is Wales," I paused trying to recall the name in their languages; maybe then it would click who he was. "Gales, the German escapes me at the moment." I murmured embarrassed at my friend's native tongue escaping me.

"One of Arthur's siblings!" Spain chirped, the smile covering his face widening.

"I know Scotland and Ireland… guess I forgot the other one. Damn, how awesome is that? Arthur has a fucking twin!" Gilbert exclaimed in excitement, "and they're fucking identical too! Like fucking doppelgangers, I bet one of them is evil! Man that explains so much about Eyebrows!"

"Sí," Antonio's smile slipped for a moment before a look of confusion passed his green eyes. "Pero, which one is Arturo?" They both looked at me expectedly. I paused and looked at the twin in concentration.

"Honesty," both sets of eyes belonging to my friends lit up," I cannot tell them apart physically; you have to wait on how they act." I shrugged, and they deflated as if let down about something. "It's the only way I can see which is which." The blonde on the stairs cocked his head to the side in thought at the young red head.

"Honestly," He paused for a moment before continuing. "I don't know. I never really used the name Britain," the one on the stairs, now identified as the true Arthur, squinted his eyes like he was thinking. "I think it was used for something…" he trailed off emerald eyes going unfocused as his mind seemed to wonder. Wales, also known as Bran to his siblings and close friends, gave a cough clearing his throat and sitting up straighter in his seat effectively attracting the attention of the other two in the room.

"The one in the vest and dress slacks is Wales, also known as Bran Kirkland," I clarified for my fellow Bad Touch Trio members, "the older of the Kirkland twins. The one in the skinny jeans and too big white shirt is mon lapin." It was true. Arthur stood on the stairs with what appeared to be a basket of linens in his arm. Worn black skinny jeans clung nicely to his legs, and once he came closer would show of his ass rather nicely. The too big white shirt was almost falling off of one of his shoulders and he subconsciously seemed to try and fix it constantly. Definitely not his shirt, but defiantly cute, the shirt hung down towards the upper part of mid-thigh. I wonder if he sleeps in it?

"Then who's the red-head? He doesn't look like the Scotland I remember and I was confident Ireland had dark hair." Gilbert questioned, both Antonio and he looked at me in curiosity again. I looked at Gilbert questionably. How well had he known the brothers? I thought I was special in that regards.

"That bundle of twiggy happiness is the youngest Kirkland, Patrick also known as Northern Ireland." Of course regardless of how well Gilbert had known them in the past if he didn't know Patrick he couldn't possibly still be all that close to them. Identifying the youngest Kirkland was easy. He had the bushy Kirkland eyebrows, light smarting off of freckles across his nose and a smile that could rival child America's. When he put on muscle, Arthur would have a hard time keeping the girls and boys off of him.

Gilbert and Antonio nodded in approval at my answer before going back to the scene at hand.

"I may be able to help you more with that question then him, Pads." Bran, turned back to face forwards face going blank as he took a drink of his tea. He held the blank look for a few seconds till Patrick's celery colored eyes lit up, like a puppy with a treat, and then a smile threatened to cover his lips. Arthur scowled as he rounded the stairs. Dropping the linens at the base and kicking them to the side.

"Why are you in my chair?" Arthur snarled at his older twin completely ignoring any moment Patrick and Bran may have been having. His eyes flashed in anger before going back to their general emerald. Patrick hopped around the furniture following Arthur like a puppy with his new owner.

"I wanted to see how many people would mix us up, Lloegr." Bran smirked at his younger twin setting his tea cup down. Arthur gritted his teeth at hearing his name in Welsh, A haughty look crossing through Bran's eyes as he watched Arthur's response. Patrick completely ignored the hostilities between the two and hopped to the couch flopping down before leaning towards Bran. Arthur followed grudgingly muttering to himself angrily while taking a seat, a lot more gracefully than his younger sibling, on the couch.

"It started when someone we all know and love decided he didn't want to work anymore." Bran gave Arthur a sly smile while trying to pull off a Victorian gentleman's apathy. This whole scene was striking me as funny. I've dealt with all the brothers at one point or another separately and together, yet I recall Bran being more laid back and air headed than his more blood thirsty siblings. The sly cutthroat persona he was displaying now didn't fit his normal image. Arthur huffed at him turning to face away from him in an angry pout.

"Really, how does France affect what England's called?" Patrick asked with a cock of his head thick red hair falling to one side. I smiled at Patrick; awww Patrick loves me. He's innocence made me think of younger days. Arthur snorted and started to snicker failing at keeping up his gentleman's persona he puts up.

"I like how lazy equals France in his world," Arthur snickered quietly never turning to look at his brothers. I scoffed. I'm not even there and he insults me so.

"Were you dropped on your head?" Bran gave Patrick a worried look. "Perchance by Arthur or Sean when you were little?" His Kelly green eyes turned sly as he looked over at Arthur. Arthur huffed at the jab. Patrick looked between the twins a pathetically adorable look of confusion covering his face. Arthur who had been peaking over his shoulder at Patrick burst into full out laughter as Bran tried to look unhappy, but failed as a smile was hinting on his face and he hid it with his tea cup.

"Oh, Poppet, he's talking about when I went pirating." Arthur turned to Patrick a soft smile on his features and a caring gleam into his eyes. He looks absolutely adorable! Patrick looked wide eyed at Arthur before turning back to Bran as if to confirm that Arthur was telling the truth about being a Pirate.

"Well yes, who do you think ran the empire while Arthur was out at sea all the time?" Bran asked setting down the tea cup on its saucer, all the while attempting to school his features back into a straight face although he was still failing.

"I never really thought about it." Patrick, brow furrowed in thought one of his hands moving up to play with his lower lip. I had never put much thought to it either nor had I or Antonio from the look on his face. "Then again I can't believe Arthur wouldn't ever have his paperwork done." He laughed a warm happy sound.

"I most certainly didn't take it with me," Arthur laughed with him, "and in the beginning I avoided coming home. It wasn't until I gained some skill and respect to my name that I started venturing back to the Isle." Arthur spoke with a far off gleam in his eyes. "I always feared they would catch me and lock me in the tower." Arthur shrugged continuing to mull over his thoughts. Even though I doubt Arthur's monarchs would have locked him away… all though some did hang him… maybe he had a right to worry.

"To save face with the other nations, it was decided that I would make the appearance anytime England was needed." Bran continued giving Arthur a nod with some unknown message being exchanged between the two when their eyes met.

"I wasn't exactly a reliable representative." Arthur spoke up when Patrick cocked an eyebrow and started to ask a question.

"Of course I had to learn to roll with whatever stories the other nations would tell on how "my" pirating had hurt them. For the longest time it was the only news we got about Sasana." Bran picked the story right back up schooling his twin in a playful manor which hinted at past hardships that had been forgiven.

"It was always fun to run into some one and learn about a new treaty I had entered." Arthur sighed from the sides. Giving the ceiling a look that clearly said the words he had just spoken was sarcasm. Bran continued, like he hadn't been interrupted, with a wide smile.

"I refused to be called England; I am Wales," he glared at Patrick emphasizing his point, "and I am tired of being mistaken for part of England. "He redirected his glare at Arthur who was staring absentmindedly at the ceiling blatantly ignoring his twin. "So since it was known as the British Empire we, being the government and myself, went with the name Britain." Patrick nodded his head enthusiastically his red hair flapping widely with his quick movements. "So on one hand I wasn't lying and saying I was England on the other it was never clarified I wasn't England." He smiled allowing one of his hands to wave in the air with one finger up like he had had the most wonderful idea.

"That hijo de puta! No good Diablo!" Gilbert grabbed a hold of Antonio as he made a dash at Arthur and his siblings stopping him.

"Hey Francis we need to get out of here before Antonio blows a gasket." Antonio struggled in Gilbert's hold hitting him more than a few times.

"Just a few more minutes then we will go." I pleaded wanting to see how this played out and hopefully gaining more information.

"I guess that worked then." Patrick looked thoughtful for a moment before looking up suddenly pale green eyes going bright. "I'm going outside." And in a flurry of movement Patrick was gone and out the back door.

"Of course I learned how power corrupts out of all of this." Bran spoke softly as if he hadn't notice Patrick had left. He took a sudden interest in the ceiling along with his twin, a look of sadness crossing his once smiling face.

"I feel like I should apologize at the same time I don't know what it's for this time." Arthur looked directly at the television before looking at his twin out of the corner of his eye. Bran let a soft smile creep onto his face as he continued to look at the ceiling. Both of them seemed to know they were avoiding eye contact yet trying to look at each other.

"We both made mistakes. You saw all the bloodshed and what was going on in the colonies, and I got to see what was happening at home on the islands." Bran spoke without tilting his head down stealing a sly glance at his younger twin. The same sly smile was starting to make its way across Arthur's face as well.

"Yet you got see all the power that was accumulated, but I got the freedom of the sea and escaping my duties for a time." Arthur turned his head to blatantly look at his sibling, a smile across his pale lips.

"We both did learn quite a bit…" Bran trailed off finally turning to look completely at his sibling.

"But you know what's most important about what we learned?" Bran and Arthur's eyes connected both of them sparking with color as a hum resonated from one of the twins. Arthur smirked, their eye contact never breaking. "We're better together." They both laughed at the corniness of the statement.

"I'll believe that when you make the rest of the world remember Wales isn't part of England." Bran gave a scowl to Arthur who just continued to laugh breaking eye contact with the force of it.

"You know we never did answer Patrick's question." Arthur spoke through gasps for air.

"Honestly, I have no idea. You dealt with America most often." Bran shrugged at his younger sibling. "Did you have him call you Britain?" He cocked his head in curiosity.

"No, he called me Arthur or England back then, I have no idea why he calls me Britain." The twins looked off into the distance or more at the turned off television resting above the fireplace. Bran reached for his tea only to find it gone. A glance to his left showed him Arthur was drinking it. He playfully snarled at his younger twin. Arthur smirked back mischief shinning in his eyes.

"For sitting in my chair," he made a motion like a toast to Bran before taking another sip.

"What are you, your age or your shoe size?" Bran looked at Arthur annoyance on his face while a smile tried to make its way out.

"My shoe size," Arthur chirped back without a hint of hesitation. Both twins smiled at each other before exploding into laughter.

"Good! Since I didn't want to be old either!" Bran choked out between laughs.

"Hey I can't hold him much longer!" Gilbert grunted under the strain of holding back an enraged Antonio. I sighed dismissively as the conference room came back into view.

"I'll kill him!" Antonio raged. Well we can't have that; Arthur will know what we've been up to.

"Get Lovi, I can hold him for a few more minutes," Gilbert all but body slammed Antonio to the floor keeping him pinned. I hope I can find Lovino. I disappeared out of the room. It was going to be a long meeting… or maybe short depending on how I played my cards.

I flung open the door to the meeting room…..

**Honestly the whole idea came about late at night after reminising about a rant (lecture) I had gotten from a former roommate on the difference between Great Britian and England. I will never be a typical American and make that mistake again...**

**Thanks everyone, leave some feed back on Patrick because I love him and he's going to show up a lot.**


	4. England and Pierre

**Sorry guys classes are killing me right now. Ask my beta she's rather unhappy with me for not finishing the character analysis on her story.**

**I Don't own Hetalia, just Pierre and Amelia.**

Gilbert's P.O.V.

The soft pitter-patter of rain was the first thing to clarify as Arthur's living room slowly came into view. It was closely followed by a warm radiating heat. The soft patter combined with Arthur's homely living room and the steady heat which created a fuzzily lazy atmosphere through the room. I stifled a yawn and the urge to make myself at home on Arthur's deep green coach. America did yawn, stretching his arms out wide, the cracking of his spine going unheard by the owner of the room.

"Man, why does Iggy have to be so boring?" America yawned again. "All I wanna do is," he stopped interjecting another yawn, "take a nap." He gave a lazy half lidded smile.

"I will agree with you on the nap, Alfred-san." Kiku's hand covered his mouth. It's cute, trying to be all proper even though old eyebrows won't know about it.

The Awesome that is me ignored them to look for the owner of this cozy atmosphere (don't mock me! Cozy is an awesome word especially if it includes the awesomeness that is me). Said owner sat in his favorite hideously floral patterned arm chair. A thick, worn hard back book rests in one of his hands and sitting on the end table was a steaming cup of tea with a teapot. In his lap sat something he was stroking, and it wasn't anything attached to him. I wiggled my eyebrows at the thought. The thing was white and fluffy looking but it wasn't any type of dog or cat I had seen.

"So that is the lamb mon lapin was whining about." Francis spoke up, humming at my shoulder.

I cocked an eyebrow hoping he would continue. There had to be an awesome story as to why Arthur Fucking Kirkland had a little awesomely adorable lamb on his lap and was petting it like a house cat. Though if the awesome me was remembering correctly, which of course I was, one of his siblings had a thing for them… but then again maybe I'm thinking of someone else. Of course Francis with his flair for dramatics had a habit of drawing a story out. This could take a while, and with the relaxing atmosphere we'll all be asleep before it's over. Sometimes I wish I could just get a straight story that would be awesome!

"Dares prisa! Tell the story mi amigo." Antonio seemed to agree with me about Francis' story telling abilities.

"The short version is Angleterre called me at three in the morning a few days ago asking me the best way to warm a bottle of milk. Of course I offered all the astounding knowledge I had and he insulted me going on about how I was his last resort but he couldn't get the lamb to eat anything and how Bran was going to kill him. Bran is Arthur's brother, Wales, America. He raised you, you should know it." Francis answered America's unvoiced question.

I glanced at him away from Francis for a moment. He was making a rather stupid face… although that may be his thinking face too… I turned back to Francis.

"Anyway of course, at the mention of one of his lovely brothers I had to find out how they were doing and who they were seeing. He continued to rant about Bran though. Supposedly his closest aged brother," he seemed to be annoyed at America's confusion to which sibling was which, a rather scary thing since I was rather positive we had seen Bran in our last visit, "had shown up earlier that day and dropped off a lamb to him claiming it wouldn't eat and needed some extra love which he didn't have the time for. I was rather put off that Bran didn't think of moi when looking for someone to take care of the lamb." Francis made a rather pathetic mock hurt face but continued none the less.

"Of course this is when it came out that the lamb hadn't been feeding, hence the warm bottle Arthur was going to attempt, and extra love in Bran's world meant extra care. Of course Arthur continued his ranting telling me Bran had pawned off the little terror, as he called it, on him since all the other lambs were being born and were rather a handful so he couldn't watch this one. After trying to comfort him, he hung up rather angrily and I went back to sleep and forgot about the incident until now." Francis finished with a perfectly polished finger poking at his bottom lip. The warm atmosphere is the only thing stopping me form pointing out to Francis that he sucked at quick stories. I returned my attention to watching Arthur, and more awesomely the lamb.

So, what? I like small cute things? It's part of what makes me awesome and, the best part is, no one has to know.

Arthur continued stroking the soft fur of the lamb in a slow rhythm. He cocked his head slightly a soft affectionate smile covering his pale lips. "You're much cuter when you're not bouncing around my home and eating my drapes and linens… not that you really could eat them seeing as I'm bottle feeding you." He continued his rhythmic stroking; stopping every now and then to turn a page. I'm not sure how he could take his attention away from the little cutie in his lap long enough to turn a page.

All in all it was a rather peaceful evening, and cute in a gay (which could awesomely be happy or the love'n way since they're both awesome…just not as awesome as me) kind of way. A soft tapping at the front door brought Arthur out of his reading world, a characteristic frown covering his face. Steadily the rapid tapping became louder until the person on the other side was all out pounding on it. Arthur's frown deepened in relation to the speed of the knocking; it was rather comical. He gave a grumble moving the lamb into his chair as he made for the door, his stiff movements and almost stomping feet signaling the approaching doom of the person behind the door. He continued on mumbling something about ex-colonies as he went.

"Wha…" the words froze on his lips as his eyes went wide at the sight before him.

Amelia stood soaking wet. Her blonde hair was falling out of its regular peppy pony-tail becoming rather droopy taking on the color of diluted mud. A brown coat cut in the style of the 1600's romanticized pirates covered her shoulders. Her boots were covered in mud up to mid-calf and her white shirt was almost see-through with the amount of water it had absorbed. Her waist coat was too heavy with water to tell its color. Her eyes were red rimmed mouth moving in a wavering line. I couldn't bring myself to make a remark about her with how upset she was. Hopefully the old gentleman could do something to make her smile. I hate seeing girls cry it's un-awesome. Even if it's scary crazy girls who want to drown their friends.

"Arthur," she whispered softly before throwing herself into his torso. Her taller frame leaned over him pulling him tightly to her as she buried her face in the connection between his shoulder and neck. Arthur's arms came up slowly before pulling her tighter to him in a grasp that would have bruised, if not broken, a regular human's ribs. Good thing this chick wasn't normal.

I felt a frown cross my face, even just those thoughts seemed wrong at this time. Amelia's tears seemed to have disrupted my awesome world and, until they stopped, I fear the awesomeness that is me will be upset too.

"What's wrong, poppet?" Arthur softly rocked them side to side in the entrance of his house; his voice had taken on a comforting tone that reflected the atmosphere of his living room. "What is it, love?" he continued softly hopefully attempting to pry what had made her cry into the open and not just half-assing it and trying to cover the symptoms. Since that was bad and could lead to more bad things. I tried explaining this to West once…

"He's gone!" Amelia wailed never coming out of Arthur's tight grasp, before grabbing a handful of Arthur's shirt and huddling into him with her arms folded and clutched tightly to her body as she seeming tried to cuddle into him.

"Who, poppet? Who's gone?" he pried softly while one of his hands moved to her face. He attempted to move her hair from her face all the while trying to establish eye contact with the crying girl.

"Pierre," she mumbled as she rubbed her face into the nook of his shoulder again. "Pierre's contract is up and…" she trailed off voice going weak. "I know I should be happy for him." She sniffled some more. "He's moving on finally and all," her voice quavered again, "but he was with me for so long and…" she divulged down into tears again. Her grip tightening on his shirt as her tearspoured more quickly down her face. Arthur gave her a tight rocking squeeze before doing anything.

He moved back slightly, his head cocking minutely in the direction of the lamb. A soft bleating could be heard and it seemed to knock Arthur back to the here and now. He looked at the open door and the cool breeze coming in chilling the once warm atmosphere. He leaned back pulling Amelia with him before hesitantly lifting up one leg and extending it. He nicked the door with his sock covered foot and used his toes to give the door a slight swing towards shutting. He pulled back his leg to the knee before extending it and giving the door a good kick. The door shut with a loud almost bang but it didn't seem to faze Amelia who was still clutching tightly to Arthur's shirt. He leaned his head down to face her letting his check rest on the top of her wet head.

"Pierre had been with you for a while now it would be natural to miss someone you have been with for that long." Arthur's voice was smooth and calming. With the door now shut the fire warm heat was starting to radiate through the rooms again adding to the calm Arthur was exuding. Arthur started rocking her softly again.

"Since the second world war," her voice wavered as she spoke little sniffles sounding through the air. She turned her head, which allowed Arthur to hear her more clearly, her face turned away from him and into the entry way. "Towards the beginning of it too," She added softly. Arthur nodded his head in an act of sympathy.

Arthur was a nation and a damned good one at that. He knew. Like all nations, he knew the pain of losing those you cared for, the pain of losing those you had come to respect. He knew the pain of having soldiers fight for you and in your name in the battlefields. And he knew the pain of them dying. And like every good nation he would never forget them. Like any nation with any dignity he knew all of their names all of their families' names. The atmosphere went melancholy with all the nations around thinking of their losses and the wars.

"Your alarm sounds like a sheep." Amelia muttered breaking through the thick doom clouds that seemed to be covering us now. She let her grip on Arthur loosen as she tried to calm herself down. Arthur smiled softly into her hair giving her a final squeeze before letting go completely.

"Come now I'll show you that new alarm, hmm," he looked at her with a soft smile. Which she returned softly tears still flowing gently down her face. "Come, come," he led her by the hand, allowing some of his British charm to come through. "I'll make some pasta, that's a good comfort food right? And then we can watch one of those annoying chick flicks you like and you can help me name the monstrosity that Bran left me with." His voiced stayed in a soothing tenor never losing its warmth. He led her softly into the living room where she abruptly stopped. Amelia froze her eyes going wide as they landed on the adorable fluffy-ness in Arthur's horridly ugly chair.

"Ummm…" She blinked a few times before continuing. "There's a lamb in your living room." Amelia managed. Her voice sounded rather disbelieving as she spoke, but she pulled herself together and moved towards the lamb.

"He's not very old, but he wouldn't feed." Arthur moved besides her as she stared at the creature. "Needs a little extra love is what Bran told me." Amelia and the lamb started at each other both seemingly dumb struck by the other. Arthur continued on like having a lamb in your living room was normal. A hand moved to the back of his hair as he fluffed his hair subconsciously. "I'll fetch you some clothes and a towel for a warm bath, or would you rather a warm shower?"

"A shower would be amazing," Amelia mumbled her eyes never leaving the lamb as one eye twitched slightly seemingly trying to comprehend the creature in front of her.

"Well you know where it is. I'll fetch you some clothes and a towel." He lightly tapped her arm startling her out of her stare off with the lamb. She started moving towards the bathroom on the ground floor of England's London home. Quietly they made their way down the hall and to the bathroom.

"Arthur," Amelia spoke softly as she went to duck into the room. Arthur turned to look at her. "Thank you." She hugged him again this one short and very brief.

"Anytime, love," he kissed her forehead softly moving away from her as she turned back into the room.

"I'll leave the door unlocked." She added a hint of her regular self showing through as she gave him a mischievous smirk which was thrown off by the tear stains on her face.

Arthur rolled his eyes before shaking his head. He padded down the hallway going into a guest bedroom that was too messy to not be regularly claimed by the same individual, but nothing stood out enough to say who regularly occupied it. Arthur dug around in the drawers of a dresser pulling out a dark pair of woolen pants and a big white shirt.

He made his way out of the room and to the bathroom a slight swagger to his steps. He stopped in front of the door one hand awkwardly held up to knock. He squinted his too green eyes at the door before letting his head fall with a sigh. It made a thud on the door. The sound of the shower could be heard through the door.

"Honhonhonhon, is petite lapin going to enter while she's bathing?" Francis snickered from somewhere besides me.

"Dude, she like totally gave him permission it's all cool." America chirped up.

"Sometimes I thing Arturo raised you in a bucket, amigo." Antonio shook his head.

"It's totally raised in a bubble, and I don't see what the big issue is." America's baby blue's turned to look at us imploringly.

"Let me explain it to you, L'Amerique. Arthur is going to go into the bathroom with a girl." America blinked uncomprehendingly at him. "The girl is in the shower." Still no comprehension in those baby blue. "The girl will be naked." Francis finished a shit eating grin on his face as understanding dawned on poor naive America, but whatever I totally have to see the pirate gentleman enter a girls bathing area. With the girl in it! America was sputtering and continuing on but I turned back to watch Arthur who had just got the nerve to set his hand on the door knob.

Arthur took a deep breath before he turned the handle. The room suddenly went funny, almost like when a video game glitches out; it was weird.

"It looks like someone is trying to contact us from the outside." Kiku spoke up softly. "We should head back to avoid any confrontation."

"Awww," I whined. "I wanted to see if she was as hot outta clothes as in them."

"It's got to be cooler out of clothes." America spoke. Eyes brimming with innocence that told me he wasn't bull shitting me with all of this.

Arthur was opening the door of the bathroom as the office began to re-appear. His voice still echoed softly as the office room still wasn't quite cleared from Arthur's hallway.

"I don't have any girl things here… that aren't from before the 1700's and highly uncomfortable…" his voice was awkwardly loud almost as if he was yelling through the door. "But there are some pajamas here."

As the office room cleared up a ring tone rang through the air too fast for me to catch the tune the phone was answered.

"Bonjour," Francis's voice chirped. Francis continued to talk on the phone to whoever it was in French.

"You have to be shitting me, America." I turned to look at him.

"Alfred," he responded to me a confused look on his face.

"Adios! I'm going to go find Lovi!" Antonio chirped hopping from the room. Kiku was still fiddling with the machine. I turned back to America. His innocent wide eyed look turned in to a shit eating grin, intelligence flashing behind the glint of his glasses.

"Huh?" I gave him a rather confused look.

"You can call me Alfred. It's my name." He smiled at me like it was completely normal to, out of the blue, give name privileges.

"We'll we have been partners in crime for a while now. Kiku's cool, and if I wanted to I could call Francis by his name. I just generally choose not to. And I don't know Spain all that well personally to call him by his name. But you're awesome and I figure if we're going to continue you could call me Alfred rather than America. Mattie calls me Al so I'll respond to that to." He flashed a dazzling smile at me that made me understand old Arthur a little better in not being able to stay mad at him.

"So then you can call me Sir Awesome or Gilbert whatever floats your boat, Alfie." I smirked at him.

"Whatever you say, Gil." He mimicked my smirk. Maybe this kid was smarter than we were giving him credit for.

"I have to go." Francis spoke up. "Adieu." He glided out of the room.

"As much as I would not like to spy on Arthur-san we can go back and see how Amelia is holding up in an hour's time." Kiku spoke up softly.

"Yeah, I'd like to make sure she's okay even though Arthur makes a pretty epic knight in shining armor," said Alfred.

"More like a knight in-" I'm not sure how he did it, I didn't see him move before or after, but somehow Kiku managed to elbow me in the stomach and continued moving like nothing had happened.

"Shall we go find something to eat, Alfred-san?" Kiku asked politely as he moved out of the room Amer.. Alfred following at his heels.

"Hey don't leave without the awesome me!"

*****45 minutes later*****

"Aww didn't Iggy say he was going to cook? I wanted to see that." Alfred whined.

"It would have been impossible. The cellphone signal interfered with the machines signal. It's why we had to wait for the machine to de-fragment itself." Kiku spoke. Alfred nodded his head actually understanding the high tech stuff. After hanging out with him and Kiku for lunch, I was starting to realize he's smarter than he lets on, but you can't tell until you've been with him for a bit.

Kiku moved over to the machine. He pushed a few things and the machine made it's familiar whirling sounds and the room started to blur.

Arthur walked out of the kitchen two bowls of chicken alfredo in his hands. A piece of garlic bread balanced on the edge of each bowl. Amelia sat on the couch lazily flipping through the channels, the lamb still in its blanket bundled in her arms.

"Damn do you see that pasta? He is totally going to actually cook something for me one day not the shit he fed Francis." Alfred spoke from beside me. The alfredo looked perfectly creamy, pan fried chicken sitting on top of the mix of noodles and sauce.

"It doesn't look as good as Feli's but it's better than the pasta I make." I added my two cents to the comment.

"So whose clothes did you raid?" Amelia asked looking at him as he handed her a bowl.

"They're Angus's," he mumbled softly. "They make me feel better when I'm upset so..." he trailed off a light flush covering the edges of his checks before making his way back to the kitchen. "I'll get the tea."

"Does Angus know you wear his clothes?" Amelia questioned taking the fork into her hands. Arthur reappeared two steaming cups of tea in his hands.

"I've lost my tea pot…" he mumbled walking around the furniture. "No and I rather keep it that way. There's just something about too big clothes and…" he trailed of an annoyed look crossing his face his bushy eyebrows coming together. "It make me feel safe, and I thought it might work for you." He finished lamely.

"Thanks," Amelia said. She was sitting on Arthur's forest green coach. One of the cups of steaming tea in her hands. She blew on the surface gently before taking a sip.

"So thought of a name for the curtain chew thing?" Arthur asked an attempted smile on his face as he sat beside her on the couch. Now that the adorable fluffiness had been mentioned I noticed it was now sitting beside Amelia.

"He's not a thing! He's a Pierre, and that proves it." She stated pointing a figure at the rather alarmed face Arthur was making at her. Psychology may not be my thing but that can't be good for the whole getting over it thing. "Hear me out," she spoke and I swear sometimes she's answering me when she's talking to Arthur. "The lamb annoys you, right?" Arthur nodded his head at her his eyes still wide. "And yet you take care of it and put up with it because someone told you to?' Arthur nodded again his eyes starting to squint at her in suspicion. "But I'm pretty sure you're attached to it now?" Arthur grumbled a little looking away from her. "You would protect it in other words?" Arthur gave a reluctant nod his eyes hidden by his hair his mouth held in a hard line. "So he's like the French!" Arthur's eyes went huge at her his jaw dropping slightly in his shock.

Alfred doubled over in rolling laughter. Kiku held a hand to his mouth to stifle his. I slapped Alfred on the back my own boisterously awesome laugh ringing though the room as well. Amelia smiled at Arthur.

"And Pierre was French." She gave Arthur a deadpanned look at his disbelieving face he made at that comment. "Come on, anything French annoys you and you put up with Francis because your Prime Minister and Queen tell you to, yet you helped Francis out with his wounds and distract Ivan from him during world meetings," Arthur gave a rather reluctant nod his face give a defeated he can't win anything look to it. "And you came to his aid in both world wars. Thus the little lamb matches your interaction with the French and he needs a French name." she nodded her head at him. "Pierre was a French sailor, who I'm pretty sure you're the reason his ship sank." Arthur face went a lite guilty as his face looked down.

"It wasn't personally me." He mumbled softly. Amelia shot him a rather mean look.

"So in his honor this little lamb's new name is Pierre." She gave him a rather smug look daring him to deny her. Arthur grumbled as they sat silently eating their food while watching the TV guide.

Arthur grumped a little more before setting his plate on the coffee table. He bent over letting his hand feel around under the coach until he pulled out a dvd case. He grinned rather triumphantly with his find. Amelia gave him a rather weird look.

"What?" he asked. "It's completely normal to hid things under your coach that you don't want others to see. It's the obvious place for stuff to be so no one looks." He shrugged at her as he finished. She seemed to accept that with a shrug of her shoulders moving to eat some of her pasta. "This will have to do, it's the only one I have." Amelia snickered softly as Arthur got up and put the disk in. The intro screen for _John Tucker Must Die_ played as his pushed play. He took a spot on the end of the couch Amelia moved snuggling into his side with Pierre stretching across their bodies.

Damn Arthur was a lucky dog.

"Thank you again Arthur and I won't tell Angus." Arthur made a grumble noise clicking the play button on the remote.

"It's what friends are for: a shoulder to cry on and a crappy cheer up." She looked at him with a soft smile. "Isn't this what you do for a break up?" Arthur question eyes never leaving the screen as they squinted in confusion.

"No, you need a gallon of ice cream or a pint of Ben and Jerry's and a box of crappy chocolate, but beside that yeah." Arthur made a non-committal noise eyes still glued to the TV, and he tried to play it off that he didn't like these movies.

"We should leave them now." Kiku spoke up quietly.

"Yeah, Arthur's taking good care of her." I spoke just as quietly looking at the happy scene between friends. Pierre had started licking the noodles on Arthur's plate as he mindlessly watched the movie. Alfred nodded his head gently. The office room gently came in view.

Not to be sappy or anything, but I'm feeling pretty good about today. Maybe I'll call old Artie up and see if he wants to drink with Denmark and myself. It's been a while since we've all been together. I watched Alfred walk off calling out to Mathew.

Or maybe I'll go hang out with the North American Twins.

**Once again sorry this has taken so long. I had a major plot bunny hit over Christmas break on a story I won't start posting untill I've got five or so chapters done.**

**Questions, comments, leave a review, and I'll get back to you! I love them they keep me going when sky's are grey!**


	5. England and the Event

**And now the long awaited next chapter! As always thanks to my beta (check out her stories, Lady Liberty and Keep Calm and Carry a Nerf Gun). If you have the time, check out my other stories. (Alfonse name changed to I Spy Deceit and Rebuilding with Ruined Walls. As always I don't own Hetalia.**

**My beta says to forgive her old English I say shes doing better than me I had to add thine to my vocabulary.**

**Alfred POV**

England's boring old person living room came into view as the world cleared. Iggy stood stretching at the base of his curving light wooden staircase. His arms were bent over his head with back arched and eyes closed. A smirk of a smile stretched across his lips. A creaking noise was heard as Iggy froze in his motion and brought his arms down. It must have been a good stretch; he's such an old fart. His kryptonite green eyes opened lazily as one of his hands went up to fluff the hair on the side of his head.

A 'click' sounded through the room causing Iggy to pull his hand down and cock his head towards the kitchen. He made a 'hmm' sound as he started moving. As he moved away I took notice of something totally all important that only a hero would acknowledge: Iggy's a stuffy old man, but he wasn't wearing any socks, and he was walking on the back of his pant legs! His small feet poking out as he took a step.

"Mon lapin's attire is rather unusual, non?" France spoke from somewhere. Dude! I almost forgot he was here. How unheroic.

"What do you mean?" I couldn't find anything wrong with Iggy's clothes besides the fact he was walking on his pants, something he always nags at me for.

"Can you not see it?" France questioned me. "The too big white tee shirt, the sweat pants! It's a crime against fashion!"

"It looks rather comfortable." Spain chirped up from somewhere.

"Those are jogging pants. Jogging pants are lighter material and they don't hug your ass like those are doing. Damn if I'd know what the bi polar gentleman was hiding all these years the awesome me would have conquered his vital regions decades ago." Prussia crackled.

"It explains his loves of suits and long coats!" Spain chirped again. "He knew Francis would never let him go if he knew he had a culo like that." Spain finished in a rare moment of analytical intelligence. We all turned to stare at him. "Qué?" he questioned.

I turned and looked at Iggy who had now come back from the kitchen moving towards his favorite chair in the living room. I didn't see it. If my Spanish was correct, and I'm the hero so of course it is, Spain said Iggy has a nice ass. I mean I guess even the old man could be a little cute. I scratched the side of my head. I think I'd rather not think about it.

I looked back at what Iggy was doing…. Maybe Iggy was kidnapped by aliens and replaced with a fake Iggy. That's the only logical explanation for what I'm looking at. Iggy had set his tea cup on the end table, but instead of sitting in his favorite chair or even on the couch he was… perched on the couch arm. He balanced on the balls of his feet, knees bent in a crouch. One hand had been pulled up to his face, one finger was up running parallel with his check, his head cocked once again to the side as his eyes glazed over.

"It's not someone visiting," He mumbled under his breath. "Then what is it?" He moved sliding his legs down the couch so he was now straddling the couch arm. Absent-mindedly he picked up his tea cup and took a sip. His eyes remained glazed over as he pulled one leg up and tucked it under his body the other leg still hanging freely off the couch. He took another sip.

The phone started to ring. Iggy didn't move to answer it. Ring once, twice, three times and the answering machine picks up. Iggy continues to sip his tea with no acknowledgment of the phone ringing. It's starting to look a whole lot clearer why there are some days I just can't seem to contact him.

"Arthur, I know it's your day off, but your brother has an important meeting with Ireland tomorrow. I called him to make sure everything was going well. He hasn't answered his phone. This wouldn't be an issue if it hadn't started last night." The voice on the answering machine said. It sounded strangely like Iggy's Prime Minister.

In a very cat like motion, Iggy had set the cup down and sprung to the phone on the mantle.

"If I understand correctly you would like me check up on him?" Iggy's voice held a question to it as he cradled the phone between his ear and shoulder, flopping very un-gentlemanly on the couch. Hey, he yells at me when I do that! "Yes, I'll stop by early enough so there is not a chance of me running into Ireland." He picked up his cup and took a sip. "Yes, I understand how important this event is for Patrick, and yes I'll remind him not to get into a fight with Shamus. Yes, I'll remind him his actions will reflect directly on the United Kingdom." Iggy's voice had turned patronizing. I've had that toned used against me several times, it wasn't fun. "Sir, just leave it to me and stop worrying. I'll charge all my cost to you personally, since this is my day off, so no problems. Have a nice day!" Iggy halfway sang the last line as he hung up on the frantic voice on the phone.

Iggy stood up from the couch and put the phone away. "It's about eight here," he glanced out the window. I didn't realize it was night time in the U.K. "it'll take over ten hours to get to Belfast. If I leave in an hour I'll be there at around eight am." He picked up his cup and started to move towards the kitchen.

"He's going to spend all day traveling. How boring," France yawned into his hand.

"The hero has an amazing idea!" I thumped my fist into my open palm. "What if we stop watching Iggy until tomorrow? Using his math he'll reach Northern Ireland at about three am here. So we can stop for dinner then hit the sack early so we can watch Iggy and his little brother interact."

"For once l'Amérique has a good idea. I agree with his plan." I had no idea what France was talking about. All my ideas are good ideas.

"Ok Mr. Spider, you are between me and my coffee creamer n' ketchup, prepare to be screamed at!" Northern Ireland pointed with the handle of a flyswatter before lunging forward. He wedged his weapon into the handle of the refrigerator door; prying it open while a tiny, dime sized spider ran across the top of the door he was targeting. England leaned through the doorway, watching the scene unfold. North did an awkward shuffle back and forth before crouching down and lunging again to retrieve his afore mentioned necessities from the fridge door. Having acquired his items, North jumped backward away from the fridge as if he suddenly realized it was radioactive. Shakily, he started to pour a dribble of creamer into his coffee.

"Paddy, when did you last sleep?" England questioned the teen in front of him. North started shakily stirring his coffee, ignoring Iggy completely. "Paddy? Patrick?" England moved towards North grabbing him by his shoulders and spinning him around. Northern Ireland stooped slightly, probably because England was pushing down on his shoulders. "Patrick Kirkland, you listen to me right now." England had slipped in to his 'no nonsense, you're going to listen to me even if your Russia' voice. "Calm down. You are not going to drink that coffee." England was making eye contact with North never wavering. "You are going to go upstairs, put on your pajamas and go to sleep. Do you understand me?" North rapidly nodded his head, he looked like a bobble head.

"But…. But Shamus's coming and," North began, he was a bundle of nerves and jitters. England pressed a finger to his lips.

"Shhhh. Don't worry about it. I'll take care of everything. Okay?" North nodded his head again. "Hang your clothes in the bathroom so I can look them over without waking you up."

"But food and… and….. cleaning!" North tried again.

"I will take care of it." England's tone had turned softer taking a caring note. "Go do what I told you. By the time you're done I'll have a glass of milk warmed up for you. Okay?" North nodded tears beginning to well up in his green eyes. England pulled the teen down wrapping him in a firm hug. "Don't worry I'm here now. I'll take care of it all." North squeezed England back, face buried in England shoulder sniffling a little as he did.

"You're not going to let Shamus or Alba find out, are you?" North pulled away to look at Iggy.

"Never," Iggy smirked at him, "Go on now." A light shove and North started to walk away.

I felt… I don't know, but I don't like it. I felt like I just witnessed something I shouldn't have; something that should have stayed between the two brothers, a personal bonding moment. My vision started to blur. I was not going to cry. I'm a hero, and heroes don't cry. Watching Iggy take care of North did not make me jealous and think of times best forgotten, nuh uh no way.

Iggy turned away from the counter taking a sip out of North's coffee cup. He crinkled his nose at it. "A ten hour trip and not even a hot cup of tea waiting for me," Iggy sighed taking another sip of the coffee making another face and looking at the fridge. "But first I have a spider to save." Arthur walked over to the fridge shooing the spider on to his hand before tossing it lightly out the window. I'm not exactly sure how that's saving anyone. I mean come on he tossed it out the window! It's on the first floor ya, but that's a tiny little spider.

There was a thudding of footsteps before North reappeared. "The clothes are hanging on the guest bathroom door." Iggy turned to look at him. North looked at the mug of warm milk curled into his scrawny chest. Iggy made a hmm sound at him with a nod of his head.

"Then why, pray tell, are you not tucked in bed?" Iggy cocked his head to the side and looked at North with a soft condescending smile. North fidgeted a little looking around at the floor around his feet. Iggy sighed a little before moving towards North. "Come sit with me in the game room for a minute. We'll go over what you have done and what I will take care of." Iggy slid his left arm around North's lower back and wrapped his right hand around North's right wrist. North let Iggy lead him that way to the game room still cradling the mug of milk to his chest.

They enter a room that must have been originally designed as a parlor or tea room with the giant windows that let sunlight in. On one wall North had set up a big flat screen T.V. with game consoles strewn out around the room. A flip over ping pong, air hockey table sat in front of the big windows. Near the middle of the room lay a couch with blankets strewn about.

Iggy steered North over to the couch and sat him down before sitting down next to him. North focused on the ground in front of his feet all the while clutching the mug tighter. Iggy had turned his head to look at North, his kryptonite eyes analyzing North's form. It was eerily similar to the looks he gave battle maps while trying to uncover the enemy's weakness. After a moment more he let out another sigh.

"I came all this way and to what? Not even a proper greeting, now how are you or how have you been?" North's head shot up to look at Iggy. His pale green eyes going wide and his bottom lip began to quiver. "Of course I may be able to overlook this offence for a…hmmm… a hug sounds like good payment. What do you think?" He gave North a little smirk like smile. North returned the look with a relieved smile before moving his left arm like he was going to wrap it around Iggy. He froze awkwardly seeing the mug in his hand. He let his head move from looking at the mug to looking back at Iggy completely lost. With another soft sigh Iggy slid the mug out of his hand and placed it at the ground under the futon.

North started moving again pressing himself into Iggy's side. He twisted his torso so he could bury half of his face in Iggy's collar bone, his one hand moving to grasp Iggy's shirt on his chest while the other clenched at the shirt near Iggy's hip. Arthur wrapped his arm around North's shoulder resting his chin on top of North's head. North wiggled a little before pulling his feet up and off the side curling them up and readjusting himself on Iggy's chest, dislodging Iggy's head.

North had managed to arrange himself in a way that allowed him to use Iggy like a giant teddy bear. "See that wasn't so bad," Arthur spoke softly. "Now then, when is the last time you slept?"

"It's been a few days," North muttered into Iggy's collar. "I've been so worried about messing everything up." He rubbed his nose farther into Iggy's chest. "I know this is a big responsibility and a lot's riding on me to get this right, but it seems like everything's falling apart and I," North sniffled a little his eyes going a little misty. North fought back the tears and refused to let them fall.

"Shhh," Iggy shushed him quietly. "You're exhausted Paddy. Get some sleep. I can't host this event for you, but I can take care of everything else for you." Iggy softly kissed the top of his crimson locks. Softly he started humming, squeezing North to him slightly.

"Sing me to sleep, Sing me to sleep," softly Iggy started rocking North just slightly. "I'm tired, and I want to go to bed." North's eyes were starting to blink rapidly as he fought off the sleep his body craved. "Sing me to sleep, Sing me to sleep," North's head nodded down and his eyes didn't open again. "And then leave me alone. Don't try to wake me in the morning," North's breathing began evening out. "'Cus I will be gone. Don't feel bad for me." Iggy let his voice quite down further as he started to move slowly. "I want you to know, deep in the sail of my heart." Iggy pulled North's limply curled hands off of his shirt before moving more of North's weight onto his arm. "I really want to go. There is another world." Slowly, Iggy lowered North down onto the futon as he got up off of it. "There is a better world." He pulled up the one of the blankets draping it over North's slim frame.

Quietly, he moved back up to North's head. "Pleasant dreams, poppet." Iggy softly moved North's crimson hair from his face before quietly making his way out of the room. Slowly, he closed the door behind him.

Iggy walked around the house taking a look at the entry room, the dining room, and several other rooms on the ground floor. He looped back around to the kitchen and began pulling open cabinet doors looking at their contents before shutting them and moving on. He pulled open the fridge door and disappeared from view for a few seconds, the sounds of plastic crinkling and glass clinking could be heard before he reappeared with nothing and pulled open the pantry door. He walked in and repeated the fridge scene before reappearing once again with nothing.

He walked back to the fridge pulling off a dry erase board from the side I hadn't seen yet. He pulled the little magnetic marker off and started talking to himself. "I don't have time to polish the floors, but they should be able to get by with a good sweeping." He wrote sweep floors on the board. "The wood furniture needs dusted and polished." Dusting and polishing followed sweep onto the board forming a three leveled column. "It looks like Paddy was thinking of something along the lines of seared beef for dinner," he tapped the marker on his chin. "I'll have to find a recipe for that." Dinner was added to the list. "The box cake will have to do for desert and I'll have to find something for an appetizer." Cake and appetizer were added to the list. "I'll have to double check that Patrick's clothes are acceptable." He picked the board up before spinning around with it in hand. "Some flowers to brighten the house up and distract from what I won't get to." Flowers were added to the list. "But first Music, this will be a very taxing chore without music!" Arthur ran his hands down his sides' to his pockets. Made a face then repeated the process. He looked down this time running his hands across his rear-end checking for the elusive music player. "Fuck! It's on the counter at home."

Iggy brought his hands to his hair ruffling it in aggravation while gritting his teeth. He paused in his motion. His jaw loosened and he cocked his head eyes opening with a curious light. His hands slid slowly from his hair as he looked around him.

"Good Morrow, fair Ellyllon, pray tell what brings thee to this place? Is thy dear Cymru in peril?" Iggy suddenly spoke to the air softly like he hadn't just been pulling his hair out. "I am humbled by thine deepest concern for myself." Iggy must have been speaking to his imaginary friends. He turned his head from where he had been looking to another direction.

"My most fragrant and warm, Hyacynthie, I am here to help my youngest brethren. Eírn is coming and he shall be most cross if everything is not perfect." Iggy seemed to startle for a moment before turning back to the direction he had first been facing.

"Fair Ellyllon, I did not intend to offend thee. I shall address thy pretty fairies in a mix of modern and olden tongues then if it shall appease thee." His head whipped back and forth a few times almost like he was following someone else's conversations.

"Hyacynthie speaks truth. Thy talent would be of great use, fair Ellyllon. Wilst thou collect wild mushrooms for this eve's meal?" he questioned the air. No wonder the British Isles have such bad relations if half their shit doesn't get done. "I fear thou is the only one with enough talent for such a task." Iggy spoke a gentle smile covering his mouth softly. His eyes held a slight pleading look. "Once again I find myself humbled by thy caring love for we brothers." Iggy nodded at thin air before turning back to the kitchen.

"My dear Alalia and Cymbeline how long have thee been waiting?" he cocked his head again. "Thank you for the permission to speak in the modern version of mine tongue but I fear I must beseech the favor from Hyacythie as well." He turned back around before nodding at the air again. "If thou dost not understand me ask and I shall explain in the tongue of old."

"Cymbeline, have you seen Patrick's noise maker? Yes, yes, the strange shiny thing that produces noise." He nodded his head two more times before moving. "In the sink, you say?" Iggy moved over to the sink reaching in and pulling out a white probably 80 gig iPod. "Not the best place to keep it…" Iggy trailed off. "Oh the string thing is on the cookie jar?" Iggy turned back to the cookie jar on the counter I hadn't noticed before. Wrapped around the jar was a pair of chunk head phones with a thick black band that would go over the top of someone's head. The head phones themselves were big enough to easily cover someone's entire ear!

"This is a good start! I have a lot of work to do today." Iggy took the head phones off the jar before sliding them around his neck. He plugged the jack into the iPod then slid the device in his pocket. "No, Hyacynthie it's not paper work today. Yes, I would be delighted if you were to help me Cymbeline." Iggy jerked his head slightly to the side like someone had pulled on his hair. "You too, Alalia, you may help as well." Iggy turned to look at the list he had made for the white board when he suddenly looked up in up surprise. "Oh my! Have all of you been spying on me?" he laughed lightly. "Yes, my dears you may all assist me. Shall we deal out tasks for everyone to accomplish?" He nodded his head softly before going back to the board.

"Ellyllon is collecting mushrooms, Meliantha will you and IIona go collect some flowers for the house. Hyacynthie maybe you could help them decide which rooms the flowers should go in? Will you also help make the house feel more warm and inviting? I fear the rooms Patrick doesn't frequent often are rather drab. Jarita if you would guard Patrick and ensure he is well rested this eve shall progress more smoothly. Lunette if you can dust the chandeliers till they sparkle it shall make the rooms more luminous. Feeorin, Cymbeline, Alalia you shall accompany me in the rest of the cleaning. Everyone know what they're doing? Great! I shall whip something together as a treat for lunch."

"Uhh.. Mis Amigos?" Spain spoke up suddenly distracting me out of watching Iggy make an idiot of himself. "Lovi is suppose to call me and well…" I frowned at him. This wasn't something I wanted to not see.

"Antonio has a point." France spoke up. The bad touch trio defending one another to the end.

"The awesomeness that is me would love a snack right about now." Prussia chimed in.

"Fine then, as the leader of this group we'll take a break, let the machine charge then come back." Kiku nodded in agreement with me.

Timecgangetimechangetimechan getimechange

Iggy came flying down the hall turning his feet slightly so he would skid to a stop. Only he didn't skid to a halt, but he slow gently to one. "I don't give a damn about my reputation!" He was singing…shouting? He proceeded to air guitar! His head cocked ever so slightly and he stuck his nose in the air, he puffed out his chest a little and let one hand strum on the imagined guitar while the other hand moved up and down the neck.

"You're living in the past, it's a new generation!" he jumped forward and proceeded to air guitar again. This time with his face tilted downwards and his body moved like he was starting to hunch over his invisible guitar. North's headphones covered his ears not that we still couldn't hear the strong bass line even through the head phones. He spun around leaning down and picking up what looked like two Swiffer pads.

There's no way boring old Iggy had been cleaning by sliding down the wooden hallway, no way un uh. He just can't. That would be cool which means totally something Iggy can't be… doing. He proceeded, head bobbing in tune with the overly loud beat, to pick up the pads and move to the stair well. He pushed the pads into a back pocket so they stuck out and swayed as he walked. Out of the other back pocket he pulled a red decrepit looking rag out. He set the rag on the hand rail of the decorative half curved staircase. He went to humming the tune of the song before looking at the rag then back at the stairwell. Then back at the rag and back to the stairwell.

"And I don't give a damn about my reputation." He bobbed his head before an ear splitting evil grin covered his face. It was a grin cause that look was no smile and I refuse to call it such. "I never wanted to increase my station!" Iggy spread the rag out, gave it a push to start it moving, and in a movement I wouldn't have believed except I had seen it. He jumped from the top stair to the sliding rag. Landing on it. His arms went out to the sides and he made little flapping motions regaining his balance. He bent his knees slightly angled his arms behind him and increased his speed. He zipped down the hand rail and jumped off at the end dislodging the head phones and jumping into another air guitar fit. "I've never been afraid of any deviation. And I don't care if I'm strange. I ain't gonna change." He waved his head around a bit it wasn't quite a full out head bang but a little one letting his bird nest hair get even wilder. He hopped on one foot spinning in a circle and retuning his air guitar. Before striking a rocker pose.

He froze in that moment before bending over placing one hand on his lower back. "I'm getting too old for this…" he mumbled limping into kitchen.

"Did you…." I turned wide eyed to the others. They all stared wide eyed as well.

"That was…" Spain trailed off.

"I agree." Japan nodded his head.

"Fucking awesome!" Prussia exclaimed.

"He has always been rather light, and surprisingly flexible." France added.

"Ja, you would know." Prussia smirked at France with a wiggle of his eyebrows.

"They have been enemies for several centuries now." France and Prussia stared at Antonio with a lost cause look.

"I don't know Antonio, didn't you get a first hand view of that during his pirate days?" Prussia gave Spain a sly smile.

"For the sanity of the poor innocents present I'm going to act like I didn't hear anything." Spain gave Prussia a rather creepy smile. Prussia gave a shudder before turning back to Francis.

"He is rather light though…" Prussia trailed off probably having some sort of old man flash back.

"It's probably his cooking." France gave a thoughtful look. "You can't get much nutrition out of ash and rock." I snickered at him hearing Prussia snickering as well.

"He is smaller," Kiku spoke up. "Should he not have less weight?" He cocked his head at us. Somewhere along the line we had formed a nerdy circle completely ignoring Arthur.

"If you ever are given the chance, pick him up." France shrugged. Kiku gave him a confused look.

"He's like a bird." Prussia spoke up. I gave him a crazy look.

"Si, he's correct." Spain chirped in. "He could perch on broken planks and support himself on ropes that wouldn't hold anybody else, even some of the cabin boys would have the ground break below them on some of the things he could walk on."

"Ja, he would perch in the really high branches of the pines that no one else would even imagine doing." I guess I hadn't noticed. Most everyone and everything was easy for me to lift. The few times I had carried a drunken or injured Iggy somewhere… well, I couldn't even tell I was holding something.

"Here you go everyone. Fresh cream, be kind Cymbeline I shall retrieve another dish and there shall be plenty for all."

"All right then." Arthur turned back to the kitchen hands clasped together in one of those typical Mary Poppins poses. He gave a rather creepy smile before sighing dramatically shoulders slumping. "This is going to take forever."

"No, of course not dear. I appreciate all of your help." There was that weird game glitch thingy.

"Whose phone's on? I'll punch them." Prussia growled.

"Relax mon ami." France responded pulling out his vibrating phone. "Bonjour!" he chirped into the device as Kiku walked over to the machine.

"What's the damage?" I questioned peering over his shoulder. Damn, Kiku was short.

"It appears the damage is not as extensive as last time. I approximate three to four hours before we can use the device again.

"Sweet we'll rendezvous here in four hours. I wanna see how this turns out."

Timechangetimechamge

The world blurred as North's dining room came into view. The chandelier was glittering with light perfectly cleaned. The floors reflected light along with the furniture showing off the high polish they had received. The table was set with a fantastic spread. A pot of soup was sitting on the table, an arrangement of tea candles beneath it keeping it warm.

"I don't even know what's in that pot, but I want to taste its awesomeness." Prussia spoke sniffing the air above the pot.

"Si, I am glad we didn't wait for Francis to join us like good friends would." He smiled innocently but sometimes I think he did it on purpose.

"The potato soup is on the table." Arthur's voice rang through the air as busy footsteps entered the room. Patrick was dressed in a nice pair of pressed charcoal covered slacks a prim pressed white dress shirt covered his scrawny shoulders. Over top of the shirt was a royal blue waist coat the rich color something only Arthur would pull out. But I had to give him kudos; it was rather nice looking on Patrick. A tie was draped around Patrick's shoulders completely undone. That feeling was coming back. That one that upset my stomach and caused my hands to curl into fists. I didn't like it.

"But Arthur," North's voice whined.

"Hold still so I can tie this." Arthur huffed grabbing North's shoulders and making him face him.

"There's too much to do!" North cried.

"Have you looked around? You're fine, everything's good." Arthur gave him a soft smile like North was being silly and childish.

"No! No it can't be" North pushed Arthur's hands away. "If everything is good you'll leave!" North cried startling Arthur. He stared for a moment wide-eyed before a warm smile covered his face. He took North's shoulders before pulling him into a hug.

"Oh, my little Paddy." He rocked the panicking teen for a moment. "You'll do fine. Do you know why?" Patrick shook his head looking at the ground. Arthur placed his hand under Patrick's chin making him face him. "Because I love you, and I know you can do this." He smiled at North. North sniffed. "Now now no tears, stiff upper lip."

Before North could respond the door bell rang both North's and Iggy's eyes going wide.

"Go get the door. The food will be done in an hour." Arthur spoke taking off toward the back of the house.

"Patrick" a voice called from that direction.

Arthur ran back into the room and out the other door.

"Do I not need to get the door now?" Partick called.

"No get the door numbnut!" Ireland called out.

"Quick follow the limey!" Prussia chuckled striking a charge pose and running out of the room.

We caught up with Arthur to see him slide out of an open window landing in the flower bed outside.

"What a day to not have shoes." He muttered to himself poking his head up and pulling the window down.

The machine unawesomely (not to steal from Prussia) glitched again.

"Well that was a rather warm moment between brothers." Japan spoke with a smile.

"Who knew the limey could be so adorable?" Prussia chuckled.

"Si, he and his hermano's love was adorable!" Spain cooed.

I turned away angrily. The whole thing left a bad taste in my mouth. I slammed the door behind me not able to shake this feeling.


	6. England and the Hurricane

**Thanks for all the reviews and favorites!**

France POV

I stretched out in my seat. Today it was just Gilbert, Antonio, Japan and myself. Alfred couldn't make it for some reason or another.

Antonio was busy watching over Japan's shoulder as he worked making the poor Asian nation anxious.

"Are we ready to go?" Gilbert whined from my side.

"Hai we are." Japan nodded and the world started to blur.

Arthur's bleary emerald orbs opened as he rolled a shoulder exposing milky skin to the morning light. A hand appeared as he rubbed one of his eyes rolling over and yawning. There was a movement under the thick blankets that could only be the blonde beauty scratching his ass. Very gentlemanly. I smirked to myself watching my adorable lapin snuggle back into the thick bundle of covers.

His nose twitched in the air and his eyebrows scrunched together. His green eyes opened again and he pulled the blankets up so only he could see under them. A blank look came to his face as he dropped the blanket looking at his surroundings. He let an out an aggravated sigh as he sat up and stretched, exposing his scarred torso to the chill in the air. His adorably tiny feet swung out of the covers hanging down but not touching the floor. He was so cute!

The door to the room swung open and another familiar blonde made her way into the room.

"Good morning sleepy head, bed warm enough?" She gave the emerald eyed Englishman a cheeky grin with cheerful eyes. The door swung shut behind her as she fully walked into the room.

"It's very pleasant. Thank you for letting me sleep here I assume, but the fact my head isn't pounding and the sunlight doesn't hurt my eyes that you knocked me out and took me out to sea." He returned her coy look with a triumphant smirk.

"You knocked yourself out on that whiskey; I told you to stick with the rum. But yes, I made you sleep though the next day. And yes we're out to sea. I have a job to do." He hummed in acknowledgment and looked around at the floor.

"You wouldn't happen to know where my clothing is would you?"

"I have some ideas, but that can vary by the current and fisherman."

"What!?"

"You threw them overboard," she told him like someone might say "it's raining."

"What?"

"You threw them overboard in a fit of jealous rage." Arthur's eyes bulged a little. "You were going on about how people were paying more attention to them and you didn't like it. You tried to throw them overboard while wearing them, but then Steve convinced you to take them off and chuck them. I guess he thought you'd keep your underpants on." Arthur's brain seemed to have short circuited as he stared at Amelia wide eyed and horrified.

"You passed out a bit after that and I had Steve toss you into my bed. Poor Steve. You know he's not really from this time and your nudity and general potty mouth probably traumatized the poor man."

"I take it Steve replaced Pierre."

"It's a trial run. Pierre was gay and could handle the shit I gave him better… Steve well he… bless his poor heart, he tries, but the poor dear doesn't know how to handle all the crazy." Arthur hummed in acknowledgment as a knock sounded through the room.

"Captain, there's a live one headed our way. It's wooden and the banshee's are all awailin' around it." Amelia swung the door open revealing a very nice specimen. Blue eyes blond hair, he might have been taller than Alfred and Russia. His face was perfect not too angular and just a hint of softness. And damn those muscles if I wasn't an invisible creeper right now.

"What's our heading?" Arthur questioned as he motioned to stand.

"New Jersey, USA, or last time I checked the hurricane that's where I was headed." She pushed him to stay seated looking at the man.

"Steve, get Arthur some clothes and something to eat. I'm going to take the helm. Report to me when he's eating," Steve moved into a straight attention posture and nodded his head at her taking his leave. "We don't get the wooden ones all too often." She hummed more to herself.

"Maybe it's a museum ship they're moving out of the way of the storm?" Arthur added cocking his head at her. She looked at him nodding absentmindedly.

"If you want to help feel free, if not, you know the drill. Stay out of the crew's way." She walked to the door absentmindedly never stopping to look back at the beauty of a naked Englishman in her bed.

Arthur leaned back taking a deep breath of the salt filled air. His nose wrinkled softly as he sniffed the air.

"Storm," he mumbled his eyes going half lidded and turning eerie green.

"Captain Kirkland," The voice of Steve rang out on the other side of the door. There were two knocks and the door opened. Steve approached Arthur cautiously like he was some sort of animal that would jump and hug him naked as the day he was born.

"Man up lad, it was just the liquor." Arthur smirked at him. Sitting up and letting the covers fall artfully around his hips. He smiled at the man in an all too friendly way that had Steve pausing all over again. Arthur's pretty smile disappeared to be replaced with a frown.

"She's right, I miss Frenchman," Arthur looked to the blanket in his hands as he seemingly muttered to himself. "I fucking miss Pierre…" his voice carried with it the sound of self discovery as if the thought of missing Amelia's old first mate had never crossed his mind.

"Sir," Steve prompted using his height to stretch as far as possible to hand Arthur his clothes without coming to close.

"Belt up, lad. I was just trying to rile you up. I won't bite unless you're willing." He smiled at Steve again who froze eyes going wide. Arthur let an aggravated noise slip past his lips as he fell backwards in Amelia's bed.

"Go on shoo." He waved his hand at the man who took the invitation to flee. Only we fled with him. I looked at Japan.

"It would be improper to watch Arthur-san while he is dressing." He spoke without any hint of emotion. I went to voice my concerns when Gilbert interrupted.

"Scheissa this is going to be one hell of a storm."

"The second said we are off the coast of New Jersey or headed there?" Antonio spoke.

"Last I spoke with Alfred-kun he was preparing for a hurricane. I believed it is named Sandy." Japan spoke solemnly. We looked at him going silent. Sometimes Mother Nature was our worst enemy.

The door swung open and Arthur appeared in full pirate regalia only his coat was a navy color that matched Amelia with silver embellishments on it. Gold was a much better color on him; it brought out his eyes more.

He moved at a brisk pace and we followed him to the wheel.

Amelia was soaked through and her sailors appeared to run amok on deck, yet they were perfectly trained and in sync with one another taking care of the ship flawlessly.

Arthur took to looking out the side of the vessel a pair of military grade binoculars in his hands.

"Wouldn't this be easier under water?" he yelled at her over the storm.

"I want them to live!" she hollered back forcing the wheel in her grasp. "If we dive I'll drown them when they come aboard." He nodded seeming understanding something we did not.

He swept out adjusting the focus on the binoculars.

"Bloody high tech binoculars and no fucking sonar." He grumbled. "Amelia!" he shouted suddenly. "I see it, hard to starboard!" he cried. As Amelia turned the ship and it approached it was easy to see a familiar vessel. I had seen that ship in several movies now that I thought about it.

"Life boat off the port bow!" a sailor cried out.

"Leave it they'll make it." Amelia shouted heading for the quickly sinking ship.

"Someone got left behind?" Arthur called to her over the roar of the wind.

"Just one." She whispered though it was clear as day to me. Arthur nodded at her taking the wheel. One minute she was there and the next she was gone.

There was a commotion on deck as she reappeared with a man.

"Captain," she whispered. "Do you fear death?"

"No, I fear for my men in this storm. Can you help them?" He looked at her sternly.

"Fear not, they shall make it safely home," she looked down. "I am sorry." She spoke.

"As long as my boys make it back, that's all I can ask for," He said.

"I can give you time if you sail for me." She offered with a smile.

"Thank you, but just knowing my men are safe helps. That and if I can't see my family might as well look after them from beyond." She gave him a dazzling warm smile in spite of the storm.

"Take my hand Captain and I'll ferry you to the other side." He told her offering her hand with a smile. As soon as his grip was firm they were gone again.

Arthur spun the wheel hard.

"Heading sir?" Steve questioned him.

"I'm going fucking home." He grumbled.

"Alfred may need me and that's where he'll expect me." He whispered low enough that only we heard.

I touched Japan's shoulder. "Let's go. Alfred's going to need all of us." Japan nodded and the conference room came into view.

**Better late than never. I wrote this after hurricane Sandy hit. The story of the wooden ship that sank with the crew surviving and the captain missing (at the time) was the main resource for this one shot. Sorry it's not as detailed as normal, but for this one I think its ok.**


	7. Arthur and Hawaii

**I don't own Hetalia or Lilo who I'm borrowing from Disney. Second thanks for the reviews. Third anyone noticed my new first mate is a lot like Steve Rogers. It was intentional but know that I see it I think I'll run with it.**

Francis POV

Once a year the world conference was held a popular tourist destination. Some nice tropical place with white sand and crystal clear ocean water. This year America's Hawaii was the hot spot, not that anyone was really complaining about a trip to Hawaii. It was there one meeting once a year that evey nation turned into an over achiever in order to get three days of meeting shoved into one 16 hour day. All in all it gave the nation's 5 days to do whatever on in this case a tiny island. Controlled contained chaos Germany liked it so much he didn't bother to try and keep the countries out of trouble.

Even though Arthur was present it was still fun to spy on him. The world came out of its fizzle to the ocean sun and sand. Of course we were all in Hawaii so that wasn't unusual. What was unusual what the pasty white skin of the blonde haired man who stood in a grass skirt over his swim trunks.

Arthur had a multitude of scars across his visible back. Some lines some blobs, a crescent shape curve. The skin has since pulled to it visible appeared smooth though the lines of the scars ran lighter in color than the Brit's skin.

Arthur rolled a hip with the skill of an Indian belly dancer. Hip jutted forward he let his arms swing back like the ripples of the ocean.

At his heel in the same pose was a dark haired little girl with caramel colored skin. Alfred's little Hawaii. It was shocking to see the two of them together with how paranoid protective Alfred was of her. Last I heard he wouldn't even let Canada be by himself with her.

Arthur rolled his hips again so the opposite hip jutted up instead of out his arms waved in the opposite direction of the jutted hip.

"Now you clap," the little girl spoke clapping her hands out to the side then in front of her and over her head.

Arthur copied her with a hip roll that left them level.

"No, don't move your hips!" the girl cried out. Arthur popped the hip back up hands still in position as he turned his head to look at her.

She turned a smile to him showing a still healing scar across her little face. Japan flinched at the sight.

"From the beginning!" she angled her arms to the side and forward feet flat hips level. Arthur copied her. They began in step. Arthur's hips rolled hip jutted forward arms opposite side and back. He rolled his hips taking a step forward so he was opposite of the way he had just been. He went to either side once before jutting one forward and starting the sequence we had first seen him do. His hip went out to the side arms out opposite clapped his hips rolled again and he was parallel with another clap.

"No," the little girl whined at him, "you have to not move your hips." She demonstrated to him.

"Lilo, Darling," his voice was tired. "I need a break love, it's much too hot here for me." As he said this I noticed how wet the hair on the nape of his neck was and seen the sweat roll down his back he turned to look at her his checks flushed red from the heat.

"Then take off your clothes, silly" the girl smiled at him innocently.

"How about we take a Spanish Siesta and then start again." He offered.

"What's a se-es-ta?" she asked drawing out the syllabus of the word.

"It's an afternoon nap at the hottest part of the day." Arthur smiled at her flopping down in the sand.

"No," she whined again. "No nap, you're a big boy you don't needs naps. And if you nap then Alfred will come and he won't let me play with you." Her bottom lip jutted out and quivered as she looked at him. "Why don't you go in the water for a minute that will cool you off." She suggested with a smile.

"Lilo, love," he cooed. "I'll burn you know that. And if I get a sun burn I won't be able to play with you at all." The little girl looked down at her feet. As she kicked the sand. Arthur leaned back let out a few panting breaths looking at the girl. The parts of his face that weren't red were starting to turn even whiter. He was right he needed out of the heat.

"Lilo," Arthur smiled at her. "Will go get me a lemonade please with lots of ice." She kicked a little more sand before running off without a verbal answer. Arthur smiled at her moving away before he wobbled and got to his feet. He made it to the water coming up with the waves. A little deeper and he gave another horrid wobble, eyes rolling back and he fainted into the sand and sea.

In a blink of an eye she was there.

"What's a pasty white assed boy like you doing out in this sun?" Amelia smiled at the unconscious body as water continued to come around him the back out.

She griped him under the shoulders pulling him into the water. As they moved deeper she angle him upwards till he was resting with his head on her shoulder as she held him. The waves came up brushing under his chin. She moved handfuls of sea water over his blonde hair till they were soak dark. Seemingly satisfied she made her was back to the beach and into the shade where she dropped him.

She knelt down at his side feeling his face and neck.

"I need to get some water in you huh?" she side squatting at his side.

"Who are you?" the voice was young and sharp as Amelia looked at Lilo.

"Your friend needs liquids and to have his body temperature cooled off." Amelia looked at the ice filled lemonade. "Help me tilt him upwards we can get some liquid in him." Amelia and Lilo got Arthur up enough to his cheek rested on Amelia ample bosom. She tilted his head holding him steady as Lilo held the cup up to this mouth. A little of the yellow liquid slide past slightly part lips. Amelia cooed at him and with her free hand rub the underside of where his throat and jaw line met.

The unconscious body swallowed the liquid. Lilo and Amelia repeated the process a few more times before Arthur coughed and his green eyes came barley open.

"Good morning sunshine," Amelia cooed at him not being too loud as she smiled. "Where's your key card so we can get you to your hotel before you heat stroke." Arthur mouth went to move before Amelia's eyes pointedly moved to Lilo. He froze looking back at Amelia.

"In my back pocket." His voice was a strained whisper.

"Captain!" a voice shouted out as a broad blonde with blue eyes made his way out the surf.

"Steve, Darling, we need to get this poor man inside. Come carry him for me." She smiled at batted her eyes at her first mate.

"Ca.. Amelia," he begin.

"Who's he, your boyfriend?" Lilo scowled at them.

"Yes, but more importantly he can carry your friend." She smiled at Lilo who scowled at her. Steve bent down taking Arthur and holding him like a baby curled to his chest. His limb were too long for it and he was absolutely adorable being cuddled like that.

They began making their way towards the row of hotels as Lilo stamped her foot and ran off.

"She's going to get Alfred," Arthur crocked from Steve's arms.

"Well then I'll have to make sure your in someone else care then." Amelia snorted as they made their way into the closest hotel.

"3rd floor," Arthur muttered as they entered the elevator.

They made it to Arthur's room with minimal slowdowns. Considering the crowd of invisible, not truly there, nations following. Only having Steve turn blush red when Amelia's hand went for Arthur's ass to get the key card. How I envied that hand.

Amelia ripped of the blankets letting Steve lay Arthur on the cool sheets.

"I'm going to have to send one of the cute boys to lure France here," she sighed. "It's the only thing I can think of." She looked at Arthur who Steve was getting to drink some more water. "Steve go fetch one of the pretty boys with attitude."

"Captain?" Steve questioned. Wide curious puppy blue eyes turned to her, yet the edges of his mouth held dread or maybe fear at his assignment.

"You'll figure it out." She threw him out of the room. Before sitting at Arthur side. Arthur lazily looked at her face full of quizzical question.

"What?" she snapped at him. He blinked slowly at her looking away. They stayed that way for a minute before Arthur seemingly remembered what he was curious about and turned back to her.

"You scared me today, ok?" she grumbled at him. She looked at him touching the side of his face. "What if I had been busy?" Arthur didn't respond as his eye lids began to droop his face not able to keep up the questioning look that had gotten him answers.

She stood up moving quickly and suddenly towards the wardrobe in the room.

"Comrade Arthur?" A voice questioned from the hall. Amelia made a mad dive hiding in the wardrobe as Russia pushed open the cracked door.

"Comrade Arthur, you should not leave your door open." Russia spoke letting himself in. I heard Gilbert gasp from besides me and felt more than seen Antonio tense. Even Japan seemed to be more on edge with the new visitor to the room.

Russia paused taking in Arthur's lightly panting form before moving slowly hesitancy thick in his every step as he moved towards Arthur. My poor lapin's checks were still flush, with the rest of his face sheet white. I felt myself growl as I remembered and Russia seemed to notice Arthur's soaked swim trunks were the only thing on his body.

"Comrade, with the heat advisory you should have known better than to go outside." He creepily loomed beside Arthur's bed, His hand clenching and unclenching. He bit his bottom lip before letting his hand move forward and touch Arthurs check. With a determined look Russia sat beside Arthur, scoping the limp body up until he could rest Arthur's head against his shoulder and place his back against the head bored.

Russia looked outward at nothing before his eyes stare do to do that freak glowing thing Arthur's do when he does his magic. Arthur let a sigh fall out of his lips as his eyes blinked open slowly. He pressed himself more closely to Russia. Like the man was a human furnace and he was unendingly cold… though this situation might have been the opposite.

"You are going to become cold and sick if you keep doing that." Russia spoke to him. Arthur rolled his head upwards and looked at Russia seemingly not seeing the man he was cuddling into.

"You could sell cold hugs on the beach and make a fortune." Arthur mumbled.

"I do not like being cold comrade." Russia spoke his voice coming out with cool controlled anger, but I was starting to think that was just his tone and he wasn't truly angry at the island nation. They sat in silence for a few moments.

"I need to get out of these wet shorts," Arthur groan leaning back from Russia only to press himself back to the cool body after a moment.

"Da, and drink liquids." Russia agreed head cocked as he watched the nation in his lap.

"Will you order some juice from room service and something to eat?" Arthur asked getting to his feet shakily. Russia just him as he stood on shaky legs. Arthur nodded to himself and moved a foot only to collapse. The Russian catching him before his head could hit the night stand.

"Did you see him move?" Antonio asked now crowed lower than me in a position best fit for a spring lunge.

"I will help you change then order room service." Russia spoke.

"Hell no!" Gilbert cried… loudly in my ear. "We have to get in there! The limey may be a prick but damn for once he needs a hero." I looked at Gilbert out of the corner of my eye questioning the amount of time he was spending with my dear Alfred.

"No!" Arthur's eyes went wide looking at Russia as if the man had offered him a service of fresh chilled baby seal.

"I will not touch you just steady you," Russia sighed picking up the trembling nation. Arthur grumbled as Russia carried him to the bathroom. He set Arthur on the counter picking up his pajama pants which were already laying on the sink. Russia cocked an eye at the little nation almost seemingly asking him if he had planned to not be able to get his own clothing. Arthur stuck his nose in the air sulking. Though he watched Russia find a white button up shirt form the meeting yesterday out of the corner of his eye. Seemingly satisfied Russia looked at Arthur.

"You are covered in salt water." He stated. Looking at the nation with a neutral expression.

"No" Arthur's eyes went wide again, as if Russia had had a manic grin instead. Russia rolled his picking up the weakened nation. He stood Arthur in the shower shutting the curtain mostly so only one of his arms was in the showered with Arthur and his face was looking away. Arthur grumbled about peeking at the water started. Russia's face contorted as Arthur grunted. Five uncomfortable minutes later Arthur turned the water off.

"Clean enough," he called. Voice sounding better. Russia gave him a towel but still held on to him.

"Alright," Arthur called a few seconds later and Russia pulled the towel clad nation out of the shower. Arthur was still unusually pale but no longer red in the face. Normally I would take a moment to fully enjoy the beauty that was Arthur in nothing but a towel but given the fact the only nation there, that Arthur knew could see him, was Russia I gritted my teeth instead.

Russia set him back on the counter letting him lean against the wall to catch his breath. Since going into and coming out of the shower Arthur's adrenalin rush seems to have left him as his eyes hood with the exhaustion.

"I will put the pants on your legs then stand you up." Russia spoke to him scrunching the pant legs till is was a little cylinder he threaded Arthur's tiny feet though. Russia's fingers lingered on the tattoo on the inside of Arthur's ankle for a moment before moving on. "You may pull them up yourself." Russia pulled the pants up Arthur's legs till they brushed his towel. As he said he pulled Arthur up and let him pull his own pants up under the towel. Once the pants were on Russia took the towel dried Arthur's hair roughly causing the nation hiss and pull his head back shaking the spike quickly. Russia gave the nation a blank look picking up the button up shirt. Arthur's head tilted sideways as he started to fall asleep propped up against the wall.

Gently Russia braced Arthur against him pulling his arms though the open shirt and letting it hang open on him. He picked Arthur up again carrying him to his bed covering him with a sheet and letting the blonde sleep. Though this time his 'princess' was much more pleasant to carry.

A quick call to room service and Russia had slid beside Arthur into the bed. I would have had more issue but Russia surprised me he stayed on top of the covers.

Arthur rolled over cuddling to Russia's middle and leg as he picked up the remote and flicked though channels.

Quite peacefulness of the room evaporated as the door exploded open in a flurry of motion. "Artie!" Alfred called out. He froze before a snarl covered that pretty face and his sky blue eyes harden to icy daggers. "What are you doing, Commie bastard?" he snarled in a way that could only be a mama bear protecting a cub.

"I am keep him cool da," Russia tilted his head a small teasing smile covering his lips. "I am a cold country." Little Hawaii poked her head around Alfred legs but one look at Russia and she shied back behind them.

"Is Arthur ok now?" she asked poking just her head around Alfred and clinging to his leg. "I just wanted to play," she whispered almost in an apology.

"Da, little one, he needs sleep and fluids he can play again tomorrow." The Russian attempted a non-threatening smile at the little girl which she returned haphazardly. Alfred stood still an imposing figure in the door of Arthur's open hotel room but no longer throwing insults for once the boy seemed to be thinking.

Russia and Alfred's eyes met as a non-verbal starting competition I assume over who was really going to look after the blissfully sleeping nation. Lilo, bless her little heart, was unaware of the cold war two brewing and clambered up on the bed to look at Arthur. She went right up to the other nation's face who had since rolled over to snuggle next to Russia's leg. Seemingly satisfied with her look over she snuggle into Arthur's back laying down.

"Come on Alfred," she called out patting the bed behind her. "There's enough room. That way we can all look after Arthur." She smiled and Russia and Alfred exchanged nervous glances. Hesitantly Alfred made his way over after shutting the door and kicking off his flip flops. He lay on the opposite side of the bed as Russia. Lilo smiled in childish innocence she looped on of her arms with Arthur and closed her eyes. Russia and Alfred look dead ahead at the tv neither moving a muscle. Arthur moved his shoulder giving a little sigh and slumping even more boneless into the bed.

"I think, this is our cue to leave," I spoke softly. Japan nodded in agreement with me as we took in the happy but weird seen.

"So let's do this tomorrow!" Gilbert cried out. Japan I think made a sighing motion.

"Spain will have to operate the machine," Japan spoke. "I have prior arrangements. We all nodded in agreement waiting for tomorrow.

I thought for a moment as the room we had borrowed for our escapades came into view. Why was Antonio in charge of the machine? I looked to my brunette friend who was smiling and hugging a freaked Japan. With that I decided not to think about it.

**First of all I'll point out what you already know. My beta did not get a hold of this. If something is confusing or my grammar is horrible please let me know and I'll attempt to fix it. I'm an engineer by trade English isn't my area of specialty.**

**Secondly my beta and I are on Archives of our own. We were lazy and have a joint account Fall in Fyearth or something similar. This story is up but not nearly as far.**

**Third, reviews make me happy and there is a part two.**

**And yes I was banished from Disney movies after this.**


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